Shifter Fated Mates: Boxed Set

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Shifter Fated Mates: Boxed Set Page 48

by Mandy M. Roth


  He hadn’t been expecting to see her. In fact, he was coming back to the royal office to think about what Reid had said. He was preoccupied with her, but did it mean anything?

  Then, he found her in his office, looking at his desk. He couldn’t help the suspicions that leapt inside him at the discovery. Always, when she spoke, he had the feeling she hid many things from him. He had yet to discover what that might be. A person merely shipwrecked, waiting for a ride, wouldn’t have the need to keep so many secrets. Where was the rest of the crew she was with? It was unlikely she’d be manning her own craft in deep space. What was she doing near Qurilixen space? It’s not like they were in a high trafficked area. They were on the outer edge of the Y quadrant—disregarded as a primitive race. It’s how the Var and Draig preferred it. It was one of the few things they had agreed upon in the past.

  Kirill tilted his head to the side, wondering if she’d mind dropping the coat completely so he could have a better look. Passion filled his loins, making him ache with need. He wanted her, always wanted her. Reid was right, she occupied too many of his hours. He thought of possessing her, possessing more than just her temptress body. He wanted to possess her mind, her soul, perhaps even her heart. He wanted to know who she was. He wanted to know what she was really doing on his planet, in the Var palace, in his bed. He wanted to know if he meant anything to her, beyond a means to find sexual release.

  Ulyssa watched a subtle shift of emotions cross his dark features—anger, confusion, passion. The wave of his feeling tried to invade her body but she blocked him from her. Long black hair picked up firelight as it glided handsomely over his shoulders to blend with the black of his tunic shirt. His body was rigid with power. His gaze flickered with gold.

  He was dangerous and suddenly she feared him. Graphic images of death and destruction that the Agency had shown her flickered in her mind. She didn’t want to believe that Kirill could be a madman about to wipe out an entire race of people without discrimination. She didn’t want to believe he’d be so cruel, so heartless. But, the fact was, she knew what sort of man Attor had been. It was likely he’d raised his son to be the same way—ruthless, hateful, vengeful, deadly, and most of all deceitful.

  The first lesson of Ulyssa’s training had been to trust no one but yourself when out on an assignment. Hate it as she did, Kirill was her new assignment. She didn’t need to talk to headquarters to confirm it. She knew her duty. If Kirill was somehow in league with the Medical Mafia, she needed to know about it. If he were involved, she’d have to take him down—regardless of how she felt about him. It would seem her little vacation was over.

  Letting an impish smile cross her features, Ulyssa felt something inside her change. Her heart hardened, severing all feelings until she was but a shell. She forced herself to see him as a mission, not a man. It was the only way she could go through with her job.

  Kirill took a step forward and hesitated. His shifting eyes studied her. “There’s something different about you.”

  “Mm,” she moaned lightly, ignoring his words. Her hands lifted to the bun in her hair. Pulling the red-blonde locks loose, she shook them out, letting the curls pour around her shoulders. Giving him a feminine pout, she murmured, “I made a mess. Let me just get that, my lord.”

  Ulyssa hopped down from the desk. Not bothering to close the front of the coat, she took a step for him before abruptly turning around. She thrust her leg to the side, showing a boot as she leaned over to pick up a file. Stopping in mid-bend, her backside thrust up in the air, she ran her fingers down over the vinyl-like material. With a flip of her hair, she looked at him through half-lidded eyes and licked her mouth.

  Kirill swallowed visibly. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. Grabbing a file, she set it on his desk. Then, cocking her hip to the other side, she repeated the same procedure again, this time stopping to suck her finger into her mouth as she looked at him. He answered the look with a low growl sounding the back of his throat. Still he didn’t move as she put the second folder on the desk. Reaching for the last of her mess, she spread her legs wide and bent straight over. Hidden within the folds of the thin coat, she grabbed the trade agreement and shoved it into the sleeve.

  She tensed slightly as Kirill stepped up behind her. He threw the coat off to the side to expose her backside and grasped her hips firmly, jerking her back against his arousal. A groan left him as he rubbed his naked shaft along the cleft of her butt. That first shock of flesh against hot flesh reverberated through them, joining them in a way their bodies never could. She felt him inside her, in her mind, trying to connect. Ulyssa hid her thoughts, concentrating on the way he made her feel.

  She was caught off balance by the position, but his strong hold kept her steady. His arousal was hot, instantly sparking flashes of desire from where it touched her. Moisture pooled between her thighs, making her dizzy. Slowly, she stood back up, letting her body flex, caressing and sliding against his shaft. She tossed her hair over their shoulders and nestled back into his chest. His face instantly turned, burying in the soft locks to take a deep breath.

  “I enjoy your smell,” he murmured. “Berries and cream.”

  The folder slid from her fingers and crashed onto the floor, scattering papers everywhere. Kirill chuckled.

  “Pick them up,” he demanded hoarsely.

  Ulyssa bent over grabbed the nearest paper, not bothering with the rest of them. It crumpled in her hand as she balled it into a fist. Her eyes rolled pleasurably in her head as heat built inside her, spreading like wildfire from his touch. Kirill rubbed himself along her body, groaning in masculine pleasure.

  “Ah,” he panted. “On the desk.”

  Ulyssa stood and reached to put the paper on top of the pile. Everything but the feel of him, the sound of his voice, fell from her mind. Before she could let go, Kirill spun her around to face him.

  “No, you,” he growled, gasping for breath. “I want you on the desk.”

  He didn’t give her a chance to comply, as he lifted her up and set her on the hard, flat surface. He’d taken his pants off, but still wore the shirt. With a growl, he shrugged it off and threw it aside.

  Kirill’s eyes glowed with yellow promise. A slow, seductive grin curled onto his features. “Siren, record us. Private file, King only access.”

  “Yes, my lord,” the computer answered.

  Ulyssa gasped and moved to cover herself with the coat. She heard movement in the ceiling as four small camera lens came down and turned to the desk. She couldn’t let the computer record her!

  “Relax,” he whispered. His eyes were heated with golden-green promise. “I want us to watch later.”

  Ulyssa swallowed, as she felt something she didn’t recognize at first. It was nervousness. The idea thrilled her more than she thought it would and, against her better judgment, she let the coat go. It fell open once more.

  Kirill took himself in hand as he looked her over, stroking his long fingers over his hard length. Then going right for her, he pulled her to the edge, and plunged his ready shaft into her moist heat. His body glided in her juices as he thrust to the hilt. Ulyssa gasped at the sudden onslaught as he filled her. Each time they came together, it was like a feeling of shock overcame her and she was amazed her body still needed to stretch to fit him.

  Kirill held still for a brief moment letting her adjust. Her legs dangled off the side of the desk. She braced herself with her hands as he moved. He withdrew only to thrust hard in long even jabs, pushing into her hot center.

  His hand slid forward over her flesh to roll a nipple, pinching it into a hard bud. Ulyssa fell back, running her fingers to her own breasts to help him. Sensations exploded from the touch as her fingers mingled with his. Kirill grunted in primitive approval.

  His hand moved back to control her, as he pumped in gracefully hard thrusts of his hips. Her body clenched around his, her passage tightening around him as he rode her to the edge of her desires. Their pants and moan mingled in the royal offic
e, growing louder with each torturous plunge of his shaft inside her.

  Suddenly, Ulyssa screamed. Her body tensed on the desk, arching beautifully before him as the tremors of release took over her. Kirill grunted in masculine approval and domination. Her passage tightened almost painfully around him, forcing the seed from his body as his orgasm took him in several hard jerks. A cry ripped from his throat.

  In the aftermath, Ulyssa mumbled incoherently.

  Kirill froze, leaning forward to better hear her.

  “What?” he demanded, a little harsh, torn by his duty and his feelings.

  Ulyssa blinked as he withdrew from her. Breathless, she answered, “What? I didn’t say anything.”

  “Mm.” Softening a little, he let his hand lift to briefly touch her cheek, before he turned to grab his shirt. “Siren, stop recording.”

  Ulyssa pulled the coat up over her arms, feeling inside the sleeve for the paper. A sense of guilt overwhelmed her at what she was doing. When Kirill touched her, she forgot everything but him. She knew her duty, what she must do, but for the first time she was conflicted over her obvious choice.

  Lacing his pants along his hips, Kirill turned to her. He sighed, looking very tired. “Come, Lyssa, let’s go home.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Here.”

  Ulyssa looked up from the fireplace, where she’d been staring at for hours. She was in such deep thought that she didn’t hear Kirill come home. Looking at him, she became lost in his dark eyes. She blinked, not really hearing what he had said. A spark ignited in her, torturing her even more. For a moment, she wished she wasn’t an agent and he wasn’t a King she suspected of horrific intent. What would happen if he was just an ordinary space pilot and she a... a whatever it was normal women did? What would happen if duty wasn’t between them?

  Something changed between them that night they walked back from the office. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t fight, didn’t say anything important as they made their way back to Kirill’s home. It was just as if that invisible wall between them turned to stone, cementing them apart. After finding the document, she’d purposefully distanced herself from him, but she had a strange feeling he was doing the same with her. They’d not come together since.

  As he didn’t move, she finally looked down to his offered hand. In it was her communicator. Her heart fluttered lightly. She was almost afraid to touch it, as if holding it would connect back to her world, tearing her further away from him. The urge to confess became strong. She opened her mouth, but no words would come from her.

  “When we made this deal,” Kirill said softly, “I promised to find it. It was broken or you’d have gotten it back sooner. It seems some of the guards scavenged it for parts to fix their music relayer.”

  Ulyssa stiffly nodded and reached to snatch it from his fingers before she lost her nerve. “Uh, thanks.”

  “They said you had a gun, too.” Kirill looked at her expectantly and she knew he wanted her to explain.

  “Oh, yeah,” she shrugged, forcing indifference. She’d really like to have the weapon back, but didn’t dare push the issue. “My uncle gave it to me. I don’t really like using it.”

  Kirill nodded. When she didn’t move to turn the communicator on, he frowned. “Don’t you think you should call your ride and let them know you’re all right?”

  “I, yeah, sure.” Ulyssa swallowed nervously. She switched the unit on, hoping it would malfunction like it did in the forest. To her dismay, it lit right up. She looked at Kirill. He eyed her curiously and made no move to leave. She tried to smile and stood from the couch. Walking around the living room, she pressed the button and paced.

  “Hello?” a sweet elderly voice asked from the communicator.

  “Hey, grandma,” Ulyssa hesitated. She glanced at Kirill. He hadn’t moved. His arms crossed over his chest and his rigid features gave nothing away. “Can I speak to Uncle Frank?”

  “What?” the elderly voice called, nearly screeching. “I can’t hear you, speak up!”

  “Grandma, get Uncle Frank!” Ulyssa stated, raising her voice. “It’s your granddaughter, Ulyssa!”

  “Oh, hold on, I’ll get Frank. I can’t hear you,” said the elderly voice, before it yelled, “Franklin!”

  Ulyssa knew it was a computer generated cover voice and that an Agency operator really spoke. Careful to keep her finger on the button so the operator could hear her answer his code, she again glanced at Kirill. Ulyssa bit her lip, more for having to lie to him than for her little play she was about to perform, and explained softly, “She’s a little senile and deaf and sometimes forgets who I am. My uncle Frank takes care of her in his apartment. I don’t know why he lets her answer the phone.”

  Kirill nodded once in understanding, but didn’t move. She turned her back on him and stood, staring at the kitchen doorway. Her foot tapped lightly.

  “Uh, ye-hello,” Franklin’s authoritative voice drawled. “Frank here, who’s this?”

  “Uncle Frank? Hey, it’s me. Ulyssa.”

  “Ulyssa?” Franklin repeated, sounding warm and affectionate and not quite himself. “Is everything all right? We’ve been trying to contact you. We’ve been worried sick!”

  Franklin and the Agency had some new information for her.

  “My communicator was broken, but I’m fine. Listen, about that ride you’re sending. There has been a small change in coordinates. I’m still shipwrecked but found a place to stay. I’m typing them in now.” As Ulyssa let Franklin know she was on the same planet, she looked at Kirill expectantly. He softly gave her the coordinates and she typed them into the communicator, adding the word active so he would know she was undercover and on to something. “You got it?”

  “Yeah,” Franklin answered, concerned. “Where is this?”

  “It’s a palace. The King was nice enough to let me stay while I await rescue,” Ulyssa said. Kirill’s mouth twitched and she could just imagine what he was thinking. She blushed and turned her back to him once more. There was no way she was telling Franklin about that part of the arrangement! He didn’t have to know everything. Wanting to get the farce over with, she hugged an arm over her waist and asked, “How is everyone? I miss you guys.”

  What you got for me?

  “Your Aunt Milly’s planting roses. She went to that supplier you recommended but they were all out of the thorny breeds—what did you call them again?”

  “The Alexis?” she asked very carefully.

  “That’s the one!” Franklin confirmed. “Milly was sorely disappointed. She wants you to try and find them before you come back. We hate to ask, but she has that dissertation coming up.”

  Doc Aleksander, Ulyssa thought. Her mission wasn’t over.

  Ulyssa bit her lip. Franklin wanted to know what she was on to and it sounded like he had something for her. Thorns. That could only mean that the poisonous darts hadn’t been recovered by the other team. Doc must have brought the poison with him when he came down to Qurilixen. But why would he need the revenge darts? What purpose would Attor have in a dart that made a woman allergic to her husband’s or lover’s touch? But, if the darts were on the planet like Franklin obviously suspected, then...

  Oh, gods, no!

  With a sudden clamp of fear squeezing her heart, Ulyssa wondered if the biological weapons were already on the planet, too. She swallowed nervously and began to sweat. She needed to focus, to concentrate. If Nadja Aleksander, Doc’s daughter, ran away from him and joined Galaxy Brides, it was quite possible he came to the planet simply to retrieve her. It was a long shot, but it made sense. Nadja marrying a Draig Prince had seemed a little strange, but she’d been too preoccupied with the woman’s father to think anything about it.

  The Agency couldn’t figure out why Doc had bothered to come so far into the Y quadrant, but assumed it was for the ore in the Qurilixen mine. The ore was a great power source for long-voyaging starships and intelligence deduced he was about to plan something big that required long distance travel. Th
at’s why she was sent to stop him—before they lost track of him over the galaxies. But, what if they were wrong? What if Doc only came to retrieve his runaway daughter and meeting Attor was just a happy little side job for him?

  The Agency had no clue about the deal going on down here. She had hoped against hope that their intelligence would be aware of the shipment, especially since Franklin would’ve had Doc’s old ship stopped and inspected by undercover agents posing as spaceport authorities. Any ships coming her way would have been scanned and the biological material picked up on the Agency’s sensors. But what if they hadn’t found anything because the drop off had already been made? And how could she relay such a message to him?

  “I’ll try my best,” Ulyssa said in response to looking for the darts. A few missing revenge darts were the least of their problems. She’d carried the hope that it wasn’t as bad as she thought. But, speaking to Franklin, knowing he’d have done his job, she wasn’t so sure. Now it was up to her.

  What if the biological plague couldn’t be contained? What if the Draig panicked and an infected pilot took off for deep space to look for a cure or just to escape the planet’s fate? He could go anywhere. The plague could spread beyond Qurilixen to other spaceports.

  She was no scientist. All she knew was that she’d been forced to memorize their names in case she ever ran across them. Her department didn’t handle this sort of thing. She wasn’t trained for this, not really. She had no way of knowing what the ingredients on the list could do or what they even looked like. She could be looking for a small vile or a huge crate. Short of naming them out loud over the communicator, she had no real way of telling Franklin what she was up against.

  “Uncle Frank, hold on a second.” Ulyssa turned. She glanced at Kirill. He hadn’t moved. His face was strangely passionless. “Kirill, do you mind if I have a moment alone?”

  She turned, thinking he’d allow her at least that. He didn’t move. Instead, he asked, “Why? Do you have something to hide?”

 

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