Daughters of the Morrigan Boxed Set: (Books 1-3)

by Nina Croft

  “Tell me what happened in the forest,” she said. “How come you found me?”

  “I heard you scream, followed the sound, and there you were. That’s it.”

  Why did she think there was more to the story than that? “What were you doing there?”

  He shrugged. “I was driving through. What is this—twenty questions?”

  “I’m just trying to work out what your part is in all this.”

  “I have no part. I told you. Once you leave here, you’ll never see me again.”

  “Right, so how come you know about werewolves?”

  “Mind your own damn business.”

  She analyzed his features. Something was familiar; she’d swear she’d seen eyes like his before but couldn’t place where. “What are you?”

  He looked at her sharply. “What makes you think I’m anything?”

  “Female intuition.”

  He snorted. “My name’s Caleb; that’s all you need to know. Now the bathroom’s through there.” He pointed at a door. “I’ll get us that coffee and food.” He turned to go.

  He was right. Regan knew it. She wanted out of here, and she would be more than happy never to see him again. Wouldn’t she? A faint flicker of regret echoed through her mind at the thought, but she forced herself to ignore it. There was no place in her life for a man, even if she wanted one. It was a decision she’d made a long, long time ago.

  She’d taken human lovers in the past just to feel close to someone for a while, but it was too hard to hide her true nature, and besides, they all grew old and died, and she’d lost the heart for it.

  And she never considered taking a lover from one of the immortal races, not since that first time. She’d learned her lesson at a very early age.

  In the end, she’d come to believe it was easier to do without, but now with one touch, this man had made her body burn with long-denied need. Which didn’t mean she had to give in to that need.

  No, it was better to leave now, but she didn’t want to use her magic just yet, wasn’t even sure she could—that last spell had exhausted her, so she needed him for one more thing.

  “Caleb?”

  Chapter Four

  At the sound of his name, Caleb paused. For a minute he stood, hands thrust in his pockets, staring at the door. Could he just ignore her and walk away? He sighed and turned back. She was on the bed, the sheet pulled up over her breasts and tucked tightly under her arms.

  The problem was he knew exactly what was hiding under that sheet. Every creamy curve and hollow. He’d looked after her for two days, and he’d kept everything strictly business, but it had been damned hard, and while he’d managed to keep his body under control, his mind was another matter. The number of times he’d imagined slaking himself in that sexy body was embarrassing. But for the most part, she’d been unconscious, vulnerable, and he’d never been attracted to vulnerability in a woman. He liked his women to be strong, independent. And awake. The sort of women you could rely on not to fall apart when you told them it was time to say good-bye.

  Well, she looked pretty strong right now; any signs of weakness had vanished as soon as her voice returned. She was watching him with those amazing eyes, as though she could see into his very soul. He shook off the notion.

  He had an idea she was about to get difficult. Want more than he was willing to give. So he needed to get her out of here. Fast. Before he decided that giving her whatever she wanted, and maybe getting a little something in return, was well worth the future aggravation.

  “What?” he asked, injecting as little interest into the word as possible.

  Her full lips curled into a smile. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

  Her voice was soft, and little tremors of excitement skittered down his spine. He tried to ignore the sensation, concentrate on what was going on. She wanted something, and if he wasn’t careful, his dick was going to override his brain and decide it was worth whatever she asked. “What do you want?”

  “I need to get home.”

  “I’m not stopping you.”

  “Would you take me?”

  He could swear she actually fluttered her long eyelashes at him. His jaw clenched. Did she think all she had to do was flutter her lashes and he’d be hers to command? She allowed the sheet to slip, and the muscles tightened in his belly. He sighed and took a step closer.

  “If you take me home,” she murmured, “I’ll reward you well.”

  Her voice lowered to a husky contralto that sent shivers through his body. It had been a whole lot easier when she couldn’t speak. Another step brought him to the edge of the bed, and he stood, staring down at her. He allowed the heat to rise up in his eyes, and a flicker of uncertainty flashed across her features. A wild recklessness filled him. He tried to remind himself of all the reasons this was a bad idea.

  He didn’t know what she was, but he was sure she wasn’t human—even before she’d been bitten. She came from a world he wanted no part of, a world he had turned his back on as soon as he’d been able to stand on his own. On top of that, she was now a werewolf, and he loathed werewolves. But his logical arguments were being washed away by a need unlike anything he had experienced before. He tried to tell himself it was only lust, but the truth was he didn’t know what it was. He’d never felt anything like this. She called to something deep within him. He didn’t want it, but he couldn’t deny it, and maybe he shouldn’t fight it. Giving in would feel so damn good. He took a long deep breath.

  “What if I want my reward now?”

  The uncertainty in her expression was replaced with a flare of panic that she hid quickly. She was nowhere near as confident as she appeared—the thought pleased him.

  Then she shrugged. “I don’t have any money with me.”

  “I don’t want your money.”

  “You don’t?”

  He lowered his gaze to the swell of her breasts above the white cotton sheet, then back up to her face. “You know what I want.”

  Her eyes flickered around the room before returning to him. She licked her lower lip, and Caleb’s temperature shot up. The last remnants of his good intentions vanished into the night. His cock pressed painfully against the fly of his jeans, and his balls ached. He needed this. He deserved this. It didn’t have to mean anything, just a quick fuck, then he’d take her home, and that would be it.

  He placed one knee on the bed and leaned over her. She didn’t try to back away, and some of the tension inside him relaxed. He ran his fingers through the long, silky strands of her hair—so soft—then curved his hand round her nape, cradled the base of her skull, and tipped her head back for his kiss.

  She had a wide, lush mouth, and with the first taste, he was lost. His mouth slanted over hers and his tongue pushed inside. She was all hot, moist sweetness, and he groaned against her lips, deepening the kiss. He needed to be closer, and he climbed onto the bed and straddled her hips without breaking the contact. She kissed him back, and the first stroke of her velvet tongue sent him over the edge.

  A need awoke inside him—a need he hadn’t even known existed. He leaned back on his heels. She was flushed and breathing hard. He hooked a finger in the sheet held at her breasts, tugged it down so the soft cotton fell to her waist.

  His eyes dropped, and his breath caught in his throat.

  “You are beautiful,” he murmured.

  Her breasts were full, pouting, the peaks dark-red, already swollen. He breathed in deeply and caught the scent of her arousal. Cupping both breasts in his palms, his thumbs rubbed over the taut peaks, and she moaned. He bent his head and stroked his tongue over one, then the other, until they glistened with moisture. Her arms lifted, her fingers sliding through his hair, holding him to her.

  ***

  It had been so long since a man had kissed her, held her. When his mouth closed over her nipple, Regan melted inside, and when his teeth bit down gently, a jolt of intense pleasure shot from her breast down through her body to pool at the base of her belly.
She clenched her thighs, pressing the swollen nub that lay between them. Her head fell back, her hips rose without conscious thought, and a whimper of need trickled from her throat. She was past caring. It felt too good. She couldn’t believe she had gone so long without this, without the caress of a man’s hands, a man’s mouth.

  She needed to touch him, and she slipped her arms down over his back and gripped the hem of his T-shirt. He raised his head from her breasts so she could tug the shirt from him and toss it to the floor. His body was hard with powerful muscles clearly defined under satin skin, his chest broad with a light covering of dark hair that disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. She rested her palm flat against his chest. His skin was hot, and the rapid thud of his heart beat against her palm. Sliding her hand down, she raked her fingers through the silky hair, dipping into his navel, then lower to his jeans. She could see the bulge at his groin, pressing against his fly, and moist heat flooded her. She hooked her finger into the waistband, pulled him to her, and he kissed her again.

  Her hands slid up over his broad back, her fingers snagging on the roughness of his skin, and he froze above her. She explored with her fingertips and found his whole back a mass of scar tissue. His mouth withdrew from hers. He leaned away, gripped her wrists in his hands, and dragged them from him.

  “What—”

  He pushed himself up from the bed and stood staring down at her, his expression blank. She shifted her gaze lower to where she could see the pulse throbbing in his throat.

  “I think it’s time you went home,” he said.

  Her body clamored for his touch, her breasts ached, and her sex was swollen with need. She forced herself to ignore the feelings and concentrate. Why had he suddenly pulled back?

  She pushed the rest of the sheet away, swung her legs over the side of the bed, and stood up. He didn’t move as she walked slowly around him.

  As she touched one raised scar with her fingertip, he flinched. She knew it wasn’t from pain. His back was a mass of scars, but they were old, years old, and it was clear they hadn’t been done all at once. It looked like he’d been systematically flogged, time after time. Then she noticed a pattern to the marks. She traced the lines with her fingers.

  “They’re claw marks,” she murmured, more to herself than to Caleb. She moved around to face him.

  He didn’t answer.

  “And at a guess,” she said, “I’d say they were werewolf claw marks.”

  His hands clenched at his side, his tall figure radiated tension, but his eyes wandered over her naked body, lingering on her breasts and the dark red curls at the junction of her thighs. A dull flush stained the pale skin of his hard cheekbones.

  Regan liked the idea that her nakedness affected him, that she wasn’t the only one aching with need, and she stood up straighter and raised a hand to brush back her hair.

  His lips tightened, then he turned away abruptly. She half expected him to stalk out of the room; instead, he crossed to a set of cupboards. He opened one and pulled out some clothes.

  “Here,” he said, tossing the bundle to her. “Get dressed.”

  Regan caught the clothes. They were obviously Caleb’s—a pair of grey sweats and a matching T-shirt. “What about that shower?”

  “Forget the shower. I’ll take you home, but I want you out of here in five minutes.”

  “No coffee then?” She knew she was pushing him, but for some reason, she wanted to push him. She wanted a reaction.

  Caleb ignored the question. He strode to the door, paused. “Five minutes,” he said and was gone.

  Chapter Five

  The sun was rising as the truck pulled up beside the house. Regan sat stiff and tense in the passenger seat next to Caleb, regretting every second she had spent in his arms.

  He hadn’t spoken a single word since they’d gotten into the vehicle. She’d asked a couple of perfectly innocent questions and received nothing more than a grunt or two in return. She wasn’t sure what he was, but she was starting to suspect that there was a good dollop of werepig in there somewhere.

  “No need to get out,” she said when he made no move.

  As she reached for the door handle, intent on jumping down, he touched her arm. She tried to shake off his hand, but his grip tightened. Sinking back into her seat, she turned to face him and glared. “Yes?”

  “What I said about the pack—”

  “What about it?”

  “You need to think about it—joining them, I mean. You shouldn’t be alone when you change for the first time.”

  “I won’t change.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  She rolled her eyes; there was obviously no point in arguing with him. “Then I’ll make sure I’m not alone.”

  Alarm flashed across his features. “You can’t be with a human either. The first few times, you’ll lose control.”

  “I never lose control.”

  His stare dropped to her mouth, then to her breasts, as if reminding her of one time, very recently, when her control had gone out the window. Her breasts still ached from his kisses, and her nipples pressed urgently against the soft material of her T-shirt.

  “Oh yeah?” he murmured, his gaze never leaving her breasts.

  Regan scowled. “Look, this concern is really sweet, but totally wasted. One, I won’t turn, and two, if I do, I’ll take sensible precautions. Okay?”

  He nodded and dropped the hand that rested on her arm.

  Regan sat for a minute, unsure of why she wasn’t moving as fast as she could away from him. There was no point in pursuing this. She’d promised herself long ago—no more lovers. No more immortals thinking they could use her powers for their own purposes. And no more human men growing old without her, dying on her. She couldn’t take it. Not that Caleb had shown any sign of wanting to spend any more time with her.

  With a sigh, she reached again for the door handle. “Good-bye, and thank you for saving me. I do appreciate it, you know.” There. She could be fair.

  He didn’t answer. Surprise, surprise.

  She stepped down from the truck. At the same time, the door of the house burst open, and her sisters rushed out. Catrin, tall, her long, honey-blond hair in a plait down her back, her grey eyes worried. Beside her, Lola appeared tiny, like a pixie with her short cap of glossy black hair and pointed face. They hurried over, halting in front of her, glancing between her and the strange truck. They didn’t have many visitors. Catrin stepped closer, wrapped her arms tight around Regan, and hugged her hard.

  “Oh my God, Regan, we didn’t know where you were. We knew you were alive, but we couldn’t find you.”

  She pulled back a little. “I’m sorry, I had a small accident. I was unconscious for a while, but I’m okay.”

  “I know.” Catrin turned from Regan and looked at the truck. Through the window, Caleb sat, fingers drumming on the steering wheel, no doubt impatient to be off. Unfortunately, right now, Lola was in the way.

  “Are you going to introduce us?” Lola asked, moving to stand beside her sisters.

  “No,” Regan replied, quite aware that wouldn’t be the end of it. Catrin, she might have convinced to leave well alone. Lola…not in a million years.

  Her sister peered into the cab. The engine was still running. Caleb was clearly desperate to be away. But Lola was not to be put off. She tapped her fingers on the glass. For a moment, it looked like he was going to ignore her. Then a resigned expression settled on his face. He heaved a huge sigh and rolled down the window.

  “Hello,” Lola said. “I’m Lola—Regan’s sister. And this is Catrin…also Regan’s sister. Would you like to come in?”

  “No.”

  “Please.” Catrin entered the conversation. She was reserved compared to Lola, slow to give her trust, but she was obviously intrigued. “I’m sure Regan will want to thank you properly.”

  “Wanna bet?” Regan muttered. “Anyway, I’ve already thanked him, and he needs to go.”

  She took Lola’s arm an
d tried to pry her away, but her diminutive sister stood her ground. It was easy to forget how strong Lola was; she might be small, but underneath, she was as stubborn as a bulldozer.

  Caleb stared at her and shrugged. “Regan’s already said her thanks.”

  “Well, we would like to thank you, then.” Without waiting for a reply, Lola reached up and opened the cab door. Regan almost laughed. She was annoyed with Lola for pushing this—her baby sister was tenacious—but at the same time, she couldn’t help but be amused watching Caleb try to squirm away.

  People always found it hard to say no to Lola, especially men. She had a sweetness about her that was impossible to refuse. God knows where it had come from—certainly not from their mother. It must be from her father, whoever he was. All her sisters had different fathers. Lola’s must have been a nice man, though she was sure that nice wasn’t something the Morrigan looked for in her mates.

  Caleb obviously realized he wasn’t going to win this one. He sighed and stepped down from the cab, then glanced at Regan, who shrugged. She didn’t know what Lola was up to.

  They both followed her into the house. Lola led them into the kitchen and started making coffee. The house was quiet, and Regan’s heart sank. She’d been desperately hoping that her hounds would be here to meet her. But they would have come bounding out by now. They hadn’t returned. Were they alive?

  “Have you seen Diablo and Satan?” she asked her sisters.

  Lola shook her head. “They never came back. But they’re fine, Regan, I promise. I don’t know where they are, but they’ll be back with you one day.”

  “You’ve seen this?”

  Lola nodded, and some of the tension drained from Regan. Of all the sisters, Lola saw the future most clearly. If she said her hounds were alive then somewhere, they must be alive. Did the werewolves have them? One more reason to find Ethan Stone and make him pay.

  “Diablo and Satan?” Caleb’s question interrupted her thoughts.

  Catrin answered. “They’re Regan’s”—she paused—“pet dogs. They went missing the same night she did.”