“Lucas? It’s me.” Her voice was small, like a little girl’s, and it cracked dangerously like she was about to cry. Again. This was so not okay.
“Aster! Where are you? Are you okay? Where is Dean? Is Marten there?” Lucas’s rapid-fire French didn’t let her get a word in edgewise.
“I’m fine. Dean is here.” Fortunately, her voice had recovered enough that she just sounded quiet. Not shattered. “We want to join your pack. We’re, um… mated.”
There was a short silence from the other end of the line. And then finally, her brother spoke.
“Congratulations. He will make a good mate for you. Welcome to the Rabbit River Pack.” The words echoed oddly through the phone and seemed to vibrate through her body. That shouldn’t be possible. Right? How could the pack-bond take effect over the phone?
“Um… Thank you. How are you? How is Gage? Is everyone… okay?” Aster felt like a complete idiot. Guilt and worry warred inside her. She felt strangely disconnected and powerless. Maybe because she had just given up the last of her independence. Now she had a mate and an Alpha. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, feeling her headache trying to re-emerge.
There was another short silence, and then Lucas spoke. “Everyone is fine. Now that I know you are safe, everything is fine, Aster.” His voice was soft and soothing, and she felt such a rush of love for him, her throat threatened to close again. “Come home, Aster. Come to Rabbit River. Where you belong.”
Aster swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Well… um, okay. But, I think…” She glanced at Dean, who was waiting patiently, a hard expression on his face. “Oh, here’s Dean. He wants to talk to you.” She shoved the phone at Dean like it was a hot potato.
Dean gave her a stern look, but took the phone.
She couldn’t go back to the pack just yet, but she couldn’t ignore a direct order. Maybe Dean would have something to say that would sway Lucas. And maybe Dean would agree that they shouldn’t go right back.
Damn. Aster closed her eyes again, rubbing her forehead. This was something she hadn’t considered down by the riverside.
Beside her, Dean was saying “Thank you,” and Aster’s eyes widened as she felt an echo of that odd vibration go through her again. The bond must already be forming if she could feel the pack-magic take effect through him.
“The thing is, Lucas, I’m not sure we should come right back. There is the little matter of seclusion, and unless we stay in my trailer… Right. But more than that. I think we need to check out that lab again. I need to get my hands on those records, the ones Aster couldn’t access. We need to find out exactly how much these humans know. And track down their headquarters.”
There was a short pause, and Aster could hear Lucas on the other end of the phone, but couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. Dean kept the volume on his phone set very low.
“Working together, there won’t be nearly as much risk.”
Another pause. “Right. I promise. I won’t let her out of my sight.” Dean gave Aster a significant look. “Aster is going to promise to cooperate and stay safe. Right, Aster?”
She nodded, wondering exactly what she was agreeing to.
“Say it.” He held the phone up.
“I promise,” she said, loud enough that Lucas should be able to hear. Dean made a “go on” gesture with his hand. “Um… to cooperate and stay safe?”
Dean rolled his eyes and pulled the phone back. “Here,” he said to Lucas. “You talk to her.”
And so she had promised to stay with Dean, which, duh, they were in the seclusion period so that went without saying. And to listen to reason. That one made her grit her teeth, but she did it. And to follow Dean’s advice on how to stay safe. That one galled. Hadn’t she stayed safe on her own all this time? Well, almost, anyway. So she rolled her eyes and agreed. It was binding though. You couldn’t go back on your word when it was given to your Alpha.
She watched Dean through narrowed eyes as he pulled into the parking lot of her hotel. He better not try to piss her off, because she had no intention of rolling over and playing the submissive little mate. But at least she could still help with the search. Figure out just what Marten and these scientists were up to. Apparently, Jesse and Boaz were in the area and going to help keep watch. From a distance, because—well—seclusion.
Dean parked the Cherokee and got out. Aster sat there for a moment, gathering her strength. Sitting in the Jeep had been nice. Getting out was going to take a major effort. Her legs still felt like rubber. Dean opened her door and helped her out, which was really nice. She pulled his wet shirt down, covering as much of her legs as she could. Dean slipped an arm around her waist, which hiked it right back up again.
“Dean,” she hissed. He just smirked at her. But he did shift his arm to around her shoulders when they entered the lobby. Fortunately, there was no one waiting for the elevator with them, so they rode up on their own. And she had remembered to rescue her keycard from her ruined jeans, so they could get in without going to the front desk. But she still got a number of sideways glances walking through the lobby looking like an escapee from the world’s strangest wet tee-shirt contest. Dean got just as many looks, with his bare chest and wet jeans, but didn’t seem to notice.
He was looking inordinately pleased with himself, actually, leaning against the wall of the elevator holding her hand. She was propped in the corner next to him, leaning against the opposite wall. Every few seconds he’d glance down from her face to her legs, and his wicked little smile would widen. Men.
It wasn’t until after they’d stumbled through a hot shower together and slipped into the fresh white sheets of that wonderful king-sized bed that she was truly able to enjoy the beauty of the mating bond. Dean’s warm, naked body spooned around her, radiating heat and comfort. And it was very nice. Yeah, a girl could get used to this. Might even be worth the inconveniences, she thought groggily as her exhausted body slipped into sleep.
Chapter 17
Chess Problems have existed for centuries. They are artificial constructs—not truly part of the game. A ‘chess problem’ is composed, rather than taken from an actual game, with a specific goal in mind. Many players consider these problems to have an esthetic value beyond their tactical appeal. It is possible to construct a truly beautiful ‘problem.’
— From the Journals of Aster Ardennes
Jesse pulled out his phone and dialed Boaz, wondering if he’d been successful tracking Marten. It had taken Jesse most of the night, but he’d finally managed to trail his quarry to an apartment complex just south of Washington Park. If her scent hadn’t been so strong, he never would have found her again, since she’d driven from the office. He’d basically been combing the area in a grid formation with the office building in the center and feeling like the effort was completely fruitless when he’d caught a whiff of her scent on the breeze.
Once that happened, he’d been able to trace it back to where she had parked her car and gone into the building. He’d even managed to get inside and ascertain which was her apartment, but that was as far as he could go.
Now he stood just down the block, watching the front door and what he figured was her window and feeling like a peeping Tom.
“Yeah?” Boaz’s one-word answer almost made him smile.
“How’d you do trailing the happy couple?”
“No problems.”
“What? They walked?”
“Must have driven with the windows down. And— you smelled her.”
Yes, he had. “So, what’s your location? You reported to Lucas?” Jesse had reported as soon as he’d found the building. Of course.
“I did. I’m standing in front of a small, two-family near Helderberg. Sycamore Street. They’re on the second floor.”
“Went in, and never came out.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, that figures.”
There was a short pause. “And you?”
“I’m here on Robin Street. Our mys
tery lady went into her apartment and hasn’t poked a toe out since.”
Boaz grunted in acknowledgement.
“Okay. Well… keep in touch. Let me know if they leave.”
“You do the same, Jesse.” There was just a hint of challenge in Boaz’s tone.
“Will do. Don’t worry, Boaz. I have no intention of getting any closer to this one than I have to.”
“Good.” Boaz cut the connection.
Well, that was clear enough. And could be a problem. Jesse scratched at the stubble on his chin. What he wouldn’t give for a hot shower and a soft bed right now. But there was no way he was leaving his post. His Alpha wanted her watched. He wouldn’t let Lucas down again.
Jesse settled in against a tree up a slight hill that edged the parking lot across the street from her building. It had a clear line of sight to both her darkened window and the front door. Stretching his long legs out in front on him on the grass, he leaned his head back against the bark. It was going to be a long night.
** *
Millie dragged her eyes open to the bright light of day. A bird was chirping loudly outside her window. She was lying naked in her bed, the sheets tangled around her, and one large male arm slung across her middle. Marten was lying on his side facing her, his normally harsh expression relaxed in sleep. So far, her one-night stand had lasted well into the next day, and Marten didn’t show any signs of leaving. And boy, did that man have talents in the one-night stand department. Millie felt herself flush remembering some of the things they’d done.
She carefully rolled toward the side of the bed, trying to wriggle out from under his arm without waking him. And surprisingly enough, she succeeded. She glanced at the clock on the way to the bathroom and stopped short.
It was three forty-two in the afternoon! Well, they had been up most of the night. He hadn’t been kidding when he said he wanted to take his time with her.
She grabbed her robe from the back of the door and shrugged it on, heading for the bathroom. It was a beautiful dark emerald green that brought out the color of her eyes. She’d paid more for it than she usually would for clothing, but it was worth every penny. She loved the silky feel of it against her skin.
After taking care of the essential business of relieving her bladder, Millie examined her reflection in the small bathroom mirror. Did she look any different now that she’d been completely, one-hundred percent ravished by the likes of Marten Shaleback? No. Not really. The same boring Millie she always saw stared back at her. She’d been sure she’d at least have kiss-swollen lips. All the heroines in the books she devoured by the boatload had them.
She was dying to know what that looked like. Could it really be good? Millie kept imagining a woman with two fat lips. Not attractive. But her one chance to find out was squashed. Marten was a very gentle kisser. She ran a finger lightly over her bottom lip. He liked to do that. She shivered. It felt really nice when he did that.
She peered closer. Maybe her complexion was a little rosier, but it was hard to tell. Her hair was wild, though. As wild as she’d ever seen it. Marten liked to hold it. He’d grab a handful close to her scalp and use it to position her just how he wanted her. It was incredibly hot. He didn’t actually pull, just maybe an occasional tug if she wasn’t getting with the program fast enough, but there was very little pain. For some reason, she found it very sexy to be held in place like that. Her stomach did a little dip and her nether regions perked up at just the memory.
He was also really good at dirty talk. Not the “tell me how much you want my cock” type that always made her roll her eyes whenever she encountered it in one of her romances. No, Marten was more of a “Millie, I’m going to fuck you now,” kind of guy. Or, “Millie, I’m going to put my mouth on you now.” That one really made her shiver. Delivered with that burning intensity in his eyes, it made everything inside her just clench. Who knew she could be so— she didn’t even know what to call it.
Maybe she should start going to bars. If this was the result of a casual hook-up… no wonder why people do it.
But she had a feeling Marten was several steps up from average in that department. And anyway, she was way too shy to go into a bar by herself. Even though Millie didn’t know Marten, she knew who he was. She hadn’t had to initiate anything. He’d done all the work.
She didn’t think she could actually strike up a conversation with a stranger, let alone go home with him. If Marten had given her time to think about it at all, she would have chickened out of this too. And what a mistake that would have been.
She sighed and picked up her toothbrush. Face it, Millie Griffin, this one wild experience is probably going to have to last you your whole life.
Okay, that was a depressing thought. Maybe she should make more of an effort to meet men. Find a boyfriend. Her stomach tightened just at the thought. She hadn’t had a boyfriend since college. Not so much as a date in— well, it had to be years.
She shuddered at the memory of that last disastrous blind date. Best not to think about that. She had tried one of those online things a while back, but just filling out her profile left her in a cold sweat. She’d taken it down the next day.
But she could— do something. Right? Maybe take pool lessons? Or golf. No. Not golf. What other things did guys like to do? She could join a gym. She spit out toothpaste and glanced down at her thighs. She should join a gym. But the idea of all of those people turning to look at her as she walked through the door…
Maybe she’d stick with her kickboxing DVDs.
“Millie?”
She jumped as Marten’s voice came through the bathroom door, followed by a sharp knock.
“Umm… Just a second.” Her voice squeaked.
She glanced around wildly, but there was no escape. Wasn’t the man supposed to sneak out without saying goodbye? She was not prepared to face him again after everything they’d done the night before. Everything she’d let him do. Enthusiastically and loudly.
Her face was bright pink in the mirror, so she quickly splashed it with cold water. Now what? She tried to smooth down her hair, but it was a hopeless cause. Her hair wasn’t very cooperative on a good day. She grabbed a scrunchy to put it into a ponytail. As she pulled it away from her face, she noticed the bite mark toward the back of her neck. Okay, that was different. It looked angry and red. She should put some antibiotic ointment on it.
She still couldn’t believe he’d bitten her. That was just weird. But last night, every time he ran his tongue over it, her whole body would just ignite, pleasure and desire chasing each other through her body, straight to her nether regions.
So, okay. Maybe she just didn’t know a lot about sex. She’d had two different boyfriends in college, but she’d been a whole lot heavier back then, and they’d never done the things Marten had—
“Millie?”
Oh, shit. He sounded impatient.
She pulled the robe more tightly around her and re-tied the belt. Now or never, Millie. Time to face the music.
She took a deep breath and opened the door.
And there he was. Completely naked.
His eyes softened when they met hers, and he smiled. “Good morning, beautiful Millie.” He dropped a light kiss on her lips. Millie nearly swooned.
He took her by the waist and maneuvered her out of the doorway. He strode over to the toilet and Millie hastily pulled the door shut. As she walked down the hall to get the coffee started, she heard the distinctive sound of a man using her toilet. It was something she’d never thought she’d hear in her own apartment, and for some reason it made the whole encounter seem more normal. Mundane.
Millie put on the coffee and took chopped peppers and onions from the freezer. On the weekends, she liked to treat herself to a nice omelet, but she didn’t have the patience to actually chop vegetables first thing in the morning. She put butter in a frying pan and dumped in the peppers and onions. She had discovered if she heated everything at the same time, the frozen veggies didn’t splatter.
Too much. She was just about to pour in the eggs when Marten entered the kitchen. Still nude. Millie glanced over her shoulder and almost swallowed her tongue. The man had an incredible body. Hard and toned. Dark curly hair decorated his chest and traveled in an ever-tapering line…
“Um… Don’t you maybe want to put on some clothes?” Eating breakfast with him like that was going to be awkward, to say the least. She turned back to pour the eggs into the frying pan, trying to ignore how nice it felt when he came up behind her and put an arm around her waist, pulling her back against him.
“No need. I’m going to get you out of this robe in a minute.”
The eggs hit the pan with a sharp sizzle and the aroma of the sautéed onions and peppers wafted up. Her stomach growled. Loudly. Millie felt her cheeks go hot.
“Well, right after breakfast,” he amended, rubbing his stubbly jaw along her neck. And wow. Talk about tingles.
“Okay,” she answered, her voice going all breathy. She couldn’t think of a single other thing to say.
“And then I’m going to need you to pack.”
“What?” She could not have heard him right.
“I need to get home. I can’t be away for too long. Things are… delicate at the moment.”
“But, um… Isn’t this a one-night stand?” She cringed at how tentative she sounded. And… vulnerable.
“No, Millie.” He turned her in his arms so that she faced him. His expression was very serious. “This is the start of the rest of our lives. I’m going to need you to quit your job and move to Canada with me.”
Millie’s mouth dropped open. She stood there for a moment just staring at him.
“What?”
Chapter 18
The Sicilian Defense, which dates back to the late sixteen hundreds, was developed to counter White’s advantage in making the first move. It aggressively counters White’s ability to dominate the center of the board. By forcing the trade of a wing pawn for a center pawn, Black ends up with an extra center pawn, while opening a lane for the Black Queen to attack.
Checkmate Page 15