by KH LeMoyne
So normal, in fact, that she first mistook a towering rock face to be part of the geographic landscape. Upon further examination, she realized the rising structure contained layers of stone, glass walls, and porch railings.
Deacon laughed at her expression. “The single bear shifters like the architectural mix, and the cats like the higher levels.”
Right. Of course. What was she thinking, trying to view this as the wilderness? Wild, yes. On par with the parks where she’d worked? Not even close.
She squinted, noticing that those higher-level kitty condos had no railings. An occasional paw hung over the edge and glistening eyes that burned like molten gems watched the SUV’s progress. Definitely not like home. She couldn’t even dream something this bizarre and thrilling at the same time.
The hospital lay at the far end of town, a two-level structure with a helicopter pad out front and low lighting surrounding the perimeter. They passed the building and turned into a driveway several dozen yards beyond. A three-story house with wooden clapboard siding and a covered porch sat tucked between tall pines. An arbor at the end of the driveway added a quaint, picturesque flavor. Someone spent time maintaining this house and the yard. Despite lamps lit in several windows, no one appeared or came to greet them.
“This is the boardinghouse for the hospital. We accommodate patients’ family members here as well as visitors.” Deacon was already out of the SUV. He offered her a hand, and Lena forced her stiff muscles to move. Her body sparked to life with a second burst of energy as his palm clasped hers, the attraction between them growing stronger. With the immediate threat from her mission out of the way, perhaps this was the time to let off a little of their steam.
They entered the kitchen, the bay windows framing an eating area, tall wood cabinets, and granite countertops, all exemplifying normality. Lena caught a glimpse inside the refrigerator as Grizz slid several white-papered packages onto a shelf. Steaks, chicken, a whole turkey, and five cartons of eggs looked enough to handle a hearty carnivorous appetite.
Not that she minded, but the cotton-ball surrealism started to suffocate her again.
As if reading her mind, Deacon slid open an under-the-counter bin. Another refrigerator held vegetables, cheeses, and several cartons of milk and yogurt. “We have some vegetarians and Trevor will need the calcium.” He shot Matthew a pointed glance, with the implication that Trevor would be spending some time here.
“I want to go see my family now,” Matthew said with enough force that everyone turned to look at him.
Breslin snapped his phone shut, joining the group. “Shanae had to be stabilized again, and they’re only now taking her into surgery. It’ll still be several hours.” He shrugged as Matthew glared. “Can’t be helped. They were worried about hemorrhaging and complications from the saliva of the creatures who attacked Shanae. Trevor’s been fed, had his blood taken, and been given a mild sedative to help him rest. He’s asleep. Chisholm’s guarding the boy while Trim watches over Shanae.”
Lena frowned. Deacon said nothing more to deter Shanae’s husband, but he stared between the two of them with an unspoken command. He expected her to manage her client’s expectations. That seemed fair. She was Matthew’s only bridge to his past. “Are they in danger here?”
“No. Though they shouldn’t have been in danger in the safety of their own home. We’re not taking any chances,” Deacon said.
Matthew exhaled on that note. “I still—”
“You might want to take the time to rest while you can,” Lena interjected. “Maybe take a shower and a nap.”
“I need to see her—at least be there for them.”
Nodding, she walked slowly toward him, dropped Deacon’s jacket over a chair, and then held her arms out from her sides. The gouges in her back, probably visible with her sleeveless shirt, didn’t bite with the same pinch as they had yesterday. Instead, they twisted the muscles beneath her skin and pulled a wince from her. She turned around slowly for him to see. “What do you think the people at the hospital would think of me?”
She didn’t need a mirror to picture the blood staining her clothes, the grit and grime covering every inch of her body. Stopping as she faced him again, she gestured with her chin. “You have blood all over you too. Do you want to give Shanae a heart attack? Or Trevor? They’ll be recovering and will wonder why you still look like—no offense—a war refugee.”
Deacon moved behind her. “The plan is to recoup here for a few hours and be at the hospital by the time Shanae is brought to her room from recovery.”
Matthew released a sigh, his head drooping. “You’re right. It feels like hurry-up-and-wait all over again.”
Lena brushed her palm over Matthew’s shoulder. “Remember that you found them and they’re safe.”
He dipped his head to the side with a self-conscious sideways glance toward the others and whispered, “Feels like they’re still lost to me.”
She moved forward and pulled Matthew into a hug. Her instinct surprised her almost as much as it did Matthew, since touching was hardly her forte. He gently patted her back, awkward and careful in touching her.
“You’re the one who found them,” he said. “I’ll never forget that.”
“Aww, you’re so tired, you’re getting mushy.” She gave a light punch to his shoulder. One he allowed with a weak smile as he stepped back.
“You don’t have bully DNA, Lena.”
“You’d be surprised.” She gave him a watery smile, then turned and grabbed Deacon’s jacket, prepared to hoist her backpack and head upstairs. Deacon was already at the doorway with the strap slung over his shoulder and a bright gleam in his eyes. Well, he’d only promised not to seduce her on a cold rock, not that he wouldn’t try once they were safe. “Do I need an alpha escort to the bedroom? Are there ferals hiding under the bed?”
The corner of his mouth lifted, and a wicked smile broke across his face. “Every room in this house is safe. However, I’m not leaving until I check your wounds and treat them. By all rights, you should be at the hospital too—in a bed.”
“No.”
“Good. Then we’re in agreement. Matthew, you’re on the third floor, last room on the right.” He turned and headed past the stairs and down a long hallway toward the back of the house before she even had a chance to argue. Concerned she’d lose him in this rambling structure of a house, she hurried to catch him.
She was tired and achy with grit in every crease. She’d remedy those issues with a hot shower and pain relievers. But her need spiraling barely under control had only one solution. She wanted Deacon more than she’d ever wanted any man in her life, and he wasn’t the only one with plans for seduction.
Deacon paused inside the bedroom and toed the door closed after Lena entered. His wolf challenged him for release, the scent of Lena’s dried blood urging it to mark its mate with a seal no one would dare challenge. He knew claiming her wouldn’t safeguard her from another attack. Mates remained targets forever. Not that Lena was any delicate flower, easily smudged from the face of existence.
Still, the choice was hers, not his, as much as he detested being held back by his own rules. Forcing down his animal’s need, he dropped the backpack and strode through the connecting doorway into the bathroom.
Baked clay tile and cedar trim graced the interior, blending into the wall of glass at one side and connecting back to the bedroom with an atrium lit only by stars and moonlight.
Deacon hadn’t seen these rooms in several years and never envisioned he’d return here with a mate. His instincts clamored to take her home—to his own specially designed retreat—but nothing would send his brave PI packing quicker. Once she was committed, Lena’s loyalty would never waver. Until then, he’d treat her like the skittish colt he detected beneath the surface of her bravado. Her loyalty and strength under pressure, her ability to think clearly and diffuse difficult situations, made her a prize. Made her acceptance worth his time, no matter how long he had to wait.
&nbs
p; For now, he’d satisfy his needs by reveling in her soft skin and sweet scent, pleasuring her in ways he’d only imagined.
He turned on the nozzles of the double-sized shower and angled the stream toward the built-in cedar seating before sticking his hand beneath the spray. The water ran cold. Some things never changed, but a few minutes would bring the temperature up to muscle melting. Then he’d begin her healing—and a gentle push to convince her he was worth her trouble.
He stifled a laugh. She’d call it a seduction. However, the time-honored sharing of mate-power, no mere medicine, could rejuvenate her. Even without her final commitment, he could deliver her pleasure, the inherent benefit of shared health and vitality. It was stretching the letter of the law, but as an alpha, he had more energy to offer than most. Touch, tenderness—lovemaking, the greatest of all in producing endorphins to speed her recovery. A benefit he could give her without breaking his alpha code.
Her boots thudded on the floor behind him. Turning back with a towel in his hand, he met her raised brows.
“Looks like you’re planning on more than checking my wounds,” she said, though with a rather sensual smile that jolted his heart and brought his cock to attention.
He ran a quick review over the shirt plastered in pieces to her body as he lifted his hand, claws protruding with enough razor-sharp edge to handle the task. “You’ll want something else to cover you—that needs to come off.”
Her eyes widened, then she hugged his jacket and frowned. “You can’t cut the last shirt I have.”
He gestured with his chin over her shoulder toward the bathroom counter. A stack of new tops and pants sat beside a small pink bag with frilly white handles, purchase tags visible.
She twisted to look inside the bag and gasped. “You bought me clothes?” Then a fiercer yet more vulnerable look took hold. “Or do you keep these on supply here?”
“In your size and with colors to accentuate your skin and hair? Next you’ll claim I’m psychic.” He hid his grin at the undercurrent of confusion she barely withheld. Trained to think steps ahead, she was difficult to surprise. He found the experience refreshing. Opening a drawer beneath the sink, he rummaged through it and brought out a toothbrush, toothpaste, a hairbrush, and a few other things he thought she might need. “These are for any guest.”
She checked the clothing and then poked a finger through the bag. He stared as she lifted an ivory thong, more lace than silk, with her forefinger. “Quite the temptation. Are you planning on keeping me here forever?”
“Even if you decide to leave, I can’t have you distracting all the unmated males by walking around naked.” The thought swirled the lust in his groin even tighter. “I’d have to fight them all to keep them from claiming you.”
“For yourself?” Not letting him answer, she waved back toward the pile. “Please tell me you didn’t have one of the guys shop for these things.”
“Wharton dropped off the shirts and jeans for you.” He gestured for her to move toward the edge of the sunken tub before the windows.
“I should thank him.” She took a few steps back and touched the handles of the bag, glancing inside. “Did he also—”
A quick flash of possessiveness clenched his muscles, and a rumble erupted. “No.”
She bit her lips, almost smiling, but what could he say? The mere thought of another man picking out delicate items for her to wear against her skin triggered a violent response. “I asked the architect’s wife to select those for you. She’s tasteful in her own outward appearance—and discreet.”
“She didn’t find the request unusual?”
“No one comments on an alpha’s request. Besides, I wanted you comfortable.” Not that he would mind if she was walking around naked, but she was stalling. “This will go much faster if you don’t delay disrobing. Because either I check your wounds here, or we go to the hospital.”
Relief washed through him as she hesitated for a second, then strode back, exchanged his jacket for the towel. She sat on the edge of the tub beside the shower, curled over for his access.
“How did you know my size?”
He stroked his hand over her shoulder. “I’ve memorized the feel of you against my body. I have a fairly good sense of your proportions.”
Her breath caught, and the sweet scent of her arousal enveloped him. Too soon. He focused on her clothes and swept her braid to the side. He said nothing as his claw slipped beneath her shirt and sliced it cleanly along her spine. He peeled the edges back and leaned forward.
The outline of her lush breasts and the shapely curves of her waist and hips froze him for a second. Gritting his teeth, he muttered a mental litany of his objective and bent his head closer. Scars were inevitable, though they’d be faint. No weeping or angry color marred the almost-healed wounds. He brushed his thumb along her left arm. Faint puckers pulled the skin in a horseshoe mark. She responded with a slight tremor.
“Pain?”
“No.”
His skin tightened and his mind blanked at the throaty sensuality in her voice. One of them had to stay focused here. He turned back to her wounds. The faint pink skin tone looked healthy. Bracing his hand along the indent of her waist, he bent closer and inhaled deeply. Nose almost touching her skin, he investigated the wounds from top to bottom, scenting for signs of infection. Only lemon and jasmine flooded his nostrils as the pale, pearlescent color of healing greeted his inspection. Delicious and fragrant, she sat before him, good enough to eat. The wolf reared again, beating at him. He leaned his forehead against her shoulder blade.
She twitched, a faint sound muffled in the towel, and he pulled back.
“Did I hurt you?”
“That tickled.” She smiled as she turned her head. Steam swirled around them from the hot water, misting her cheekbones, and he swiped the dark strands of hair from her face.
As an excuse to touch her, he traced one tendril and then cupped her cheek. “The hot shower will ease your stiffness.”
At her shrug of acceptance, he rose, despite his reluctance to stop touching her. He refused to take advantage of her—he’d rather die first. Then she rose with him.
And dropped the towel.
Every muscle in his body froze. As an alpha, he commanded immense power. As a wolf, he stood undefeated in his clan. As a lover, with his mate half-naked before him, he hung on the precipice of a weakness he hadn’t felt since puberty, mesmerized and helpless not to look. The small pendant resting in the valley between her firm breasts—a brief distraction. Still, her dusky nipples reclaimed his attention. His gaze dropped lower to the soft curves over her rib cage, her barely rounded belly, and silky skin that dazzled him like no other temptation in his life.
He lifted his eyes, wary of her intent. Sensual chocolate eyes reflected erotic need—invitation, desire, and uncertainty—all calling to him.
The first and second he would satiate. Only after he’d eradicated the last urgent plea. She’d have no doubts about how desperately he wanted to lose himself in her. To bury himself deep within her body, tangling his fingers in her hair and holding her gaze as he claimed her in the only way his conscience would allow.
“Will you join me?” Her voice lingered like a velvet touch on his skin as she passed him. “You undressed me the night I was attacked. There’s no point in pretending you haven’t seen most of me.”
“Then why does it feel like I’m unwrapping a Christmas present?”
“You can be quite charming.” With her back turned to him, she dropped her pants and stepped into the shower without looking back. He ground his teeth as he soaked in the image of long, toned legs topped by the curves he wanted to taste.
She groaned beneath the coursing water, and he was instantly there, palms caressing her waist as he pulled her back against him.
“Aren’t you overdressed?” she asked, grinding her sweet ass against his rock-hard erection.
His clothes dematerialized as she turned in his arms, then he claimed her mouth. Not wi
th the gentleness or finesse he’d sought in the woods. The wrenching hunger in his loins didn’t permit patience, much less control. He needed the taste of her, the soft texture of her lips, the slick tangle with her tongue. Her tiny moans shot like lightning to his balls. He needed to feast on every swell and valley she offered.
Searching for distraction to temper his lust, he grabbed the bath soap and squeezed a glob into his hand.
She kissed his breastbone and skimmed her hands across his skin. “Am I that filthy?”
“Not yet. We’ll work on it.”
He swirled the soap across her back, the pads of his fingers drawing designs as he traced and played with her skin. She bent her forehead against his chest, but he felt her tremble in his hold.
“You’ve been promising, taunting me for days. But I don’t really know you any more than you know me.” She leaned closer, her nipples hard peaks against his chest. He held her tighter and stilled. “For now, I plan to trust my instinct.”
“What does your instinct tell you about me?” He waited for her next move. Wolf straining at the tether, the man steeled for her invitation as he continued slicking her skin with bubbles. The gentle slope from her neck to her shoulders, the swell of her breasts, the tight buds of her nipples—he followed her contours. Each called for more than just his hands, but with any luck, he’d have more than this one instance to memorize her body.
Her cheek brushed slowly against his skin. “That you wouldn’t hurt me.”
Hurt her? He might not let her leave the bed for days, but intentionally harm her—no, never. He nuzzled his face against her shoulder. The power she held over him gripped every cell in his body. Surely, it reflected in his touch.
He leaned away, hands on her waist urging her to look at him. “Is that all? What do you wish for between us?”
Breath shallow and her eyes sparkling, she met his gaze with her lips turned up. “My wishes come with high expectations.”
