Ifs.
He had no doubt his mother was digging into Corra and Caleb's family. He wondered about the big shady shifter at the beach. What more was she looking for there? To see if they really were the couple they pretended to be? Or was it something else?
How far would she go to secure his role in her legacy?
"Hey." Corra's voice snapped him back to now, just as the elevator doors opened to the foyer. "You ever do slammers?"
"Slammers? Aren't those little burgers or something?"
"No, those are sliders. We're going to need tequila and ginger ale."
After five minutes rummaging around the suite and a call to room service, Darcy procured a bottle of Patron and several cans of Canada Dry while Corra showered. She emerged from the bathroom wearing a short and tank pajama set covered in paw prints.
"Cute."
"Where're your PJs?"
He glanced down at his soggy pants. "Guess I better find some. I normally sleep in the buff, so I was going to just sleep in my boxers this weekend, but these are still on the damp side." He snagged his overnight bag from the couch and changed in the bathroom, opting for a T-shirt with his shorts. Despite Corra's earlier more-than-welcome reactions to him this evening, he wasn't sure where her boundary was, yet. Before today, she'd very carefully kept her distance from him, and he wasn't about to cross her line without a solid invitation.
They were basically having a sleepover.
He chuckled to himself.
Usually when he was here, he was barely in the door while his date of the night was already half-naked and searching for any comfortable surface to get horizontal on.
Dropping his bag beside the dresser, he found Corra leaning on the open jamb of the sliding doors, staring out over the glass balcony at the ocean.
She didn't turn when he occupied the opposite jamb beside her. She said, "As much as I always wanted to see the beaches here, I never actually thought I would. It's an incredible experience after growing up in Montreal then being at the Academy in the mountains the last while."
"I've spent my life traveling the world with my family then on my own. This is the one place I think I'll never get tired of."
"A wonderful weekend escape." Her voice was quiet.
He thought he detected more meaning to her statement. Did she mean in general? Or more specifically for them together? He hoped maybe the latter.
He knew deep down that he wanted to know her better. He'd been intrigued by her since before they'd even met. He recalled Caleb's initial encounters with her through the DNA test that had brought them together. Darcy had been incredibly pushy to find out more about her. The mystery had captured his attention.
The relationship between Bryah and Corra tickled at something in Darcy. Bryah had fought it hard to save Corra from her abductor, and by the end of those events, Darcy had seen how fierce Corra had been during the fight at the end. She fought just as hard for Bryah.
She wasn't like anyone he'd met before.
Sure, the other female cadets at the Academy were also strong, fierce women, determined to make the world a better place for shifters, but there was something else in Corra that spoke to Darcy.
It whispered words he couldn't yet decipher.
He glanced at Corra again, her face partially in shadow, lost in the seascape.
"Slammers?" he asked, drawing her from her reverie.
She jumped and clapped her hands, rushing back into the room for the drinks. Placing the bottle, cans, and some short heavy tumblers on the hardwood floor beside the patio door, she settled down with crisscrossed legs.
He sat likewise as she looked at the bottle. "Patron, huh? Hopefully this isn't a waste of really good tequila." She poured some into the glasses. Next, she poured some of the ginger ale from one of the cans, so the glasses were less than half full.
He stared at the glasses, dubious. The equal parts alcohol to soda swirled behind the cut crystal.
"Now. Here's what you do," she said, placing her palm over the top of the glass. But the glass was wider than her hand, so she improvised with both palms awkwardly covering the rim and gave the glass a hard slam on the floor, causing the drink to become a sudden riot of fizz. Tilting her head back, she drank it quickly before any of it escaped the glass.
"Your turn," she said, grinning at him, and hiccupped.
He stared at her for a long moment, unable to stop the grin from splitting his face as they sat facing each other in their PJs with drinks between them like teenagers at a sleepover.
Palm covering the top of the glass, he slammed it on the floor. He wasn't expecting the fizz to rise quite so quickly, and some of the liquid spilled down his neck, soaking his shirt as he struggled to drink it as quickly as she did.
"Guess I need more practice," he said, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth and chin.
The next round they slammed together. Corra was still faster than Darcy. She unexpectedly belched while he was still trying to chug his drink, which caused him to laugh. Some of it sprayed up into his face and covered his shirt.
"I'll get it this time," he said, lining up the two drinks.
They slammed and chugged.
Darcy had two swallows left when he noticed from the corner of his eye that Corra was leaning toward him, watching his progress with intense owlish eyes.
He couldn't.
His breath whooshed into the glass, sending the rest up in another tidal wave as he laughed.
Their laughter filled the room, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so at ease and free of his natural need to be in a state of suave coolness.
He sat cross-legged on the floor with Corra like kids, laughing at their own ridiculousness as the tequila and soda dripped from his face and hair.
So much for propriety. He pulled the shirt over his head, using it as a towel to scrub away the sticky drink from his skin.
"Another round?" Corra asked, her expression playful, challenging.
"I conceded. You're the queen of slammers."
She nodded in graceful acceptance, her eyes shining as she looked at him, her smile wide.
She was beautiful.
So open and at ease as she was, he wondered if she realized just how beautiful she was.
His gaze dropped to her mouth. He licked his lips, suddenly wanting to taste her again.
Her own smile faded, seeing the change in his expression.
Corra and Darcy stared at one another. Alive from their time at the club and the beach. Relaxed from their playful rounds of alcohol.
Darcy's heart hammered in his ears.
12
Corra stared at Darcy's full lips, captured by the sight of his tongue sliding between them.
The sounds of their breathing filled the room. The crash of the surf was a background hush encroaching through the open doors.
She recalled her impulsive actions at the club. The haze of the bass beat and the crush of writhing bodies. The feel of their bodies racing alongside one another on the beach.
And now the sight of him before her. His dark face was flushed from their laughter at the indignity of being blasted in the face by his own drink. His shirt was a ball of cloth clutched in his fist as his bared chest rose and fell with each breath. He sat on the floor before her in nothing but his boxers, and her fingers itched to explore that expanse of exposed flesh.
She reeled in her impulses.
They were alone here.
If they crossed the line, which she very much wanted to cross, it would change things between them.
Feeling like she'd just swallowed a measure of sand, she considered what she wanted. Right then, and in the future.
The future-she didn't know yet.
It didn't matter right then.
Right then, she wanted Darcy.
And he looked like he wanted her, too.
Her eyes swept the length of him.
He definitely wanted her too.
Her gaze shot back to his face,
and his lids closed to slits so that the gold-green of his irises was in shadow behind the thick fringe of his lashes. A random droplet trickled its way down the defined column of his throat. Reaching out to capture it, she dragged her thumb along his flesh, then across her tongue, tasting the sweetness of the ginger ale and the bite of the tequila, infused with his personal scent.
His eyes were intent on her face as he captured her hand in his.
Her heart pounded.
The full force of his gaze took her breath away as he drew her hand toward him and, in turn, tasted the pad of her thumb that had stolen the droplet from his skin.
Desire spiked through every nerve in her body.
He was so damned beautiful.
He should be modeling for European men's magazines. It was no wonder it seemed as though every single hetero female cadet drooled after him. She did too. She just generally hid it better than everyone else.
The three successive drinks were beginning to buzz through her body, sending languid heat coursing along her veins, magnifying the distinct moist throb between her thighs, which desperately needed attention. His attention.
It had been a long time since she'd imbibed so much alcohol so quickly, and her head spun as she leaned toward him. How much tequila had she poured into those tumblers? There was a reason Bryah was a bartender and Corra wasn't.
Her eyes were glued to those beautifully sculpted lips.
Her head grew heavy as she leaned closer to kiss him again.
He sat up to meet her.
Despite her earlier uncertainty, maybe tonight would be the night after all.
Finally.
Darcy finally had Corra alone, and she was at a point where she'd let down her walls. Her cheeks were flushed from their laughter and the drinks. He drew in a deep breath, tasting the drinks and her sweetness on the air, and held his breath as she leaned toward him, seemingly determined to pick up where they'd left off at the club.
His head swam a little as the alcohol flowed through his veins. He blinked as her lovely face lost its focus as she neared him.
He patiently held his breath as she eased closer, letting her make the first moves. He'd make the last ones—moves she wouldn't soon forget, either. He licked his lips in anticipation.
He sat up to better receive her moist, plump lips, inches from his own.
She leaned closer. Darcy leaned in more to meet her.
He drew a deep, deep breath, head swimming crazily from the slammers. Forcing his eyes shut, he moved forward a fraction more to meet her.
His eyes popped open for a split second as the sensation of falling overwhelmed him. He couldn't stop it. The view of her rapidly approaching cleavage filled his vision before blackness claimed him.
Darcy cracked an eye open to the sound of a groan, but not the sexy kind.
He attempted to lift his head, found it was just too damned heavy, and let it drop again.
His voice sounded rough when he said, "Just drink a few glasses of water and you'll be fine." He looked across the room from the couch, having no recollection of how he got there.
Corra jerked upright in the bed, her hair flying around her head, eyes wide then closing in a sharp wince.
Sitting up with less grace than he usually cared to exhibit, he got his feet moving in the general direction of the kitchenette. Having a better look at the tequila bottle, he snorted. Served them right, their rough state that morning—three drinks each with that much liquor gone. With a sigh, he opened the fridge door and grabbed several bottles of water and handed one to Corra. He dropped a spare on her lap and sat on the comforter next to her, then cracked open one for himself and began to guzzle.
From the corner of his eye, he could see her regarding him suspiciously.
"Did we…?"
"No," she whispered.
"That's good," he said.
Her head bobbled as she nodded.
"Better drink up. We have a long day ahead of us."
"What are we doing?" she asked as the water bottle tipped up to her lips.
"Usually brunch to discuss family business."
A rattle on the coffee table drew Darcy's attention to his phone. With another sigh, he stood to retrieve it, dragging his feet each way as he returned to drop back onto the edge of the bed next to Corra. Best sit close, so they didn't have to shout across the suite.
"Katz," he said, then groaned.
"What's wrong?"
"She said Mom and Dad have changed the brunch to an evening gathering." He looked up at Corra's confused face. "She's getting fancy on account of your presence."
Her mouth fell open. "Why? Brunch is fine. I can do brunch."
"She called in my siblings. They're all coming to meet you."
Her face was tight with suppressed panic. "How many siblings do you have that this needs to turn into a fancy gathering?"
"There are six of us."
She barked a short manic laugh. "This is not the kind of great hangover news I like to wake up to."
"Hangover news?"
She shrugged. He couldn't argue that.
"Uhm…How fancy is this gathering?"
"Cocktails, most likely."
"All I have is a brunch-appropriate sundress."
He shrugged this time. "Guess we'll have to go find you one. Besides, it'll give us an excuse to avoid them for a little while."
"Do I get to drive?"
Her expression was wide-open eagerness that he couldn't resist. "Of course."
He blinked, and she was out of the bed with the bathroom door clicking shut. An instant later, he heard the water running.
"Well okay then, I guess we're motivated," he muttered, getting back to his feet to search his travel bag while he waited for the shower. His eye landed on Corra's phone. He grinned to himself and set it to play again. He had to admit the more often he listened, the more he liked her music choices.
The song ended as the sound of water went silent, and the sudden silence was broken with the blare of trumpets as the next song launched into big band music from the '30s.
She emerged from the bathroom in nothing but a towel and a grin, hips bouncing to the pounding drums, rewarding him with flashes of smooth thigh. He smiled back at her as they exchanged places, and he went to shower. Under the water, washing away the remnants of last night’s drinking competition, he mused on how different she was from what he'd experienced at the Academy. Maybe her closed-up attitudes were a result of the recent dangers she'd experienced with Bryah or just her generally rough upbringing. Here was a place she could be in a different world, at least for the weekend. Not having to be so defensive.
What he was seeing now must be the Corra that Bryah saw all the time. Open and fun-loving. The Corra he'd gotten to know before today was a deeply loyal and fiercely protective-of-her-own kind of woman. When the two images came together in his mind, something clicked in his heart. He rinsed the soap from his hair and face and turned off the water.
He'd already been pursuing her. She was gorgeous.
Wiping the steam from the mirror, he looked at his cloudy reflection.
He wanted her.
All of her.
And he hadn't even gotten fully physical with her yet to see how sexually compatible they were.
Fear crept up his spine, threatening to chill the blooming warmth in his chest. He straightened, stopping it before it could spread further.
He'd let himself fall in love once before, and it had turned out badly, very badly.
But Corra wasn't Mindy.
He sighed, retrieving his toothbrush. As much as he tried to hide it, he'd inherited his father's romantic heart instead of his mother's solid pragmatism.
The doubt of a potential relationship warred with the bloom of his knowing. Should he let his lust be the tiebreaker?
He'd always known there was more beneath her surface, and he was already seeing that. She'd been responsive to him. He suspected she was as lusty as he was, and he was looking forward to
finding out for sure.
13
Dawn was a vague grey light in the east just beyond the smog of the city. The streets were nearly deserted except for a few of the hotel staff tending to early morning duties and one or two vagrants shuffling from their sleeping places.
When no one was looking, Zeek went in search of a patch of garden greenery to piss in and took a quick run to stretch stiff limbs from a long night of surveillance in his car. He hated surveillance. It was so damned boring.
He was tired of being their errand boy. Watch this person, fetch that thing of value. He couldn't see how else he could gain rank in the organization other than to prove he could follow their orders and be indispensable to their needs.
They would eventually see his value.
Sure, his bloodline wasn't as pure as they expected from their members. But he had his talents. So, for now, he sighed as his stream dampened a towering palm in a garden park several blocks from the hotel.
Never mind that he'd nearly been caught by Corra Terry and Darcy Karak the previous night. He was sure they hadn't seen him. What he couldn't be sure of was if they had caught his scent. He'd banked on the strong winds rolling off the ocean to mask him as he nosed through their abandoned personal belongings on the beach while they ran as their animals.
Stupid. Anyone could have seen them.
With a final sniff to ensure he'd sufficiently marked the tree with his urine, drowning out any other scent, he made his way back to where he'd left his car parked so he could watch the hotel parking and front lobby entrances.
With a quick glance to ensure he was alone, he got back into his car with reluctance to face more hours of boredom.
He glanced at the glove box, where he had a few joints stashed.
No. He needed to be clear-headed.
Besides, he'd already decided he needed to shake the habit if he was going to gain the respect of the right people.
The growl of an engine reverberated through the concrete layers of the parking lot. The door rolled up to reveal another expensive car emerging from its bowels. The driver's window was down, framing his target as she checked for traffic before she rolled the car out onto the road and took off up the street.
Diamond in the Ruff (Pedigree) Page 8
