She could feel the swell of his erection. He was hard. For her. The musky aroma of his arousal drifted in the air, and she breathed it in. His arm tightened around her, and she let out a low moan of pleasure as his tongue probed hers. His fingers tangled in her hair, holding her in place, and she felt a groan of pleasure, answering hers, rumbling in his broad chest.
There was a sharp rap on the door, and then the door swung open with a bang.
Eileen let out a squeal of alarm and jumped back.
Verity.
She’d totally forgotten about Verity.
Chapter Eight
Verity walked in, eyes narrowed. She stood there for a moment and sniffed at the air.
“Aha! I knew you were faking! You two haven’t mated in here,” she observed. “I’d be able to scent it.”
“Rude,” Eileen muttered.
Marcus bared his teeth in a grin. “We’re nature freaks. We only like to do it outdoors. That’s why I mated her. It’s not every day you find someone who shares your fetish.”
Eileen felt a blush creeping up her face, but forced herself to smile and nod vigorously. “It’s true. Under bushes, under trees, right in the middle of the grove…”
“I have concerns,” Verity informed them. “I spoke to your father, Mr. Justin Pennyroyal.” She sounded very proud of herself for having spoken to a man of his status.
“I already know his name, thanks,” Eileen said. “We’ve met.”
Verity shot her a look of annoyance. “He knows nothing about this mating. In fact, he said that you’ve been promised to one of the Havershams.”
“Promised? You do know this is the twenty-first century, right?” Eileen folded her arms across her chest and met Verity’s gaze defiantly.
“He also said you don’t have skin allergies.”
“How would he know?” Eileen said with exasperation. “It’s my skin, not his. I told you, he’s against this marriage. Mating. Whatever.”
Verity glanced at Marcus.
“You’re actually claiming this mating is real?” she said skeptically.
“You’re questioning the word of my Alpha?” Marcus growled. “You heard him. We’re life-mates.”
Verity stared at them, suspicion glinting in her eyes. “I’m going to be making regular visits here,” she said. “And I’ve got my eye on you two.”
She shut the door and left.
“Well, that’s just great,” Eileen said, listening to the sound of Verity’s heels crunching on the gravel as she walked to her car.
Eileen heard the engine start, and then the car pulled out and headed away, leaving her alone with her reluctant mate.
She looked up at him. He still hadn’t moved away from her. A sharp stab of longing lanced through her. She wanted him to stay close, but he wouldn’t, she knew.
She was right. After a minute, he took a step back.
“Why did you come home early?” she asked. Part of her was hoping he’d say that it was for her. To spend time with her. To get to know his new mate.
His resigned shrug told her otherwise. “Got kicked off the job site. I got in a fight with one of the other guys and the argument lasted all afternoon and the project manager told me to go home.”
“Over what?”
He shrugged again. “Something stupid. He took Samuel’s toolbox and…it was stupid”
“Oh. Well, sorry you had to spend time with me,” she said, annoyed.
“It’s not your fault.”
Of all the nerve….
“You are a rude, obnoxious jerk, and by the way, no, you do not know how to kiss!” she yelled, with a stamp of her foot.
At that, his eyes flared amber. “Really?” It came out in a low growl. “You seemed to like it when it was happening.”
The next thing she knew, he’d pulled her towards him and was kissing her again. She pressed up against him, against his heat and strength. One muscular arm was wrapped around her. His hand rested lightly on her waist. His other hand cupped her chin as he kissed her.
His lips were feather soft, and his tongue swept through her mouth gently, slowly, exploring with infinite tenderness. He tasted like sweet coffee and…Marcus. A delicious taste, one that she wanted to consume and draw into her body, her very soul.
A wave of heat swept over her, rushing from her head to her toes. She kissed him back, hungrily, and let out a low moan of pleasure as his tongue probed deeper.
That seemed to bring him back to his senses.
Slowly, he pulled away, wrenching a whimper of protest from her. She stared up at him, her eyes glazed over with a deep, carnal hunger that shocked her. She’d never felt anything like this before.
Mine. Need. Want.
Fuck me. Hard.
She stifled a gasp at her own crude thoughts as he stepped back away from her again. He was going to leave now. No. She didn’t want him to.
“Marcus, why did you just run off to work this morning? Why did you run off after you met me yesterday? Basically, why are you avoiding me?”
A frown creased his forehead. “For the same reason I avoid everyone. I don’t want to hurt you.”
She cleared her throat. “You won’t hurt me. I swear.”
“You don’t know me.” There were depths of pain in his eyes that she’d never seen before. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
She managed a weak smile. “I might be stronger than I seem.”
At that, he managed a grim, answering smile in return. “I might be more broken than you think.”
A long, awkward silence stretched out between them.
“I can’t kiss you again,” he said in tones of great regret. “Because I might not be able to stop myself next time.”
“What if I didn’t want you to stop?” That might just have been the bravest thing she’d ever said. She waited for him to mock her, to laugh at her, to sneer that he’d never want a stupid, clumsy little weakling like her.
He just shook his head sadly.
“We wouldn’t work together. You’re a good person. I’m…not. I’m hardly even a person at all, most days.” She started to protest, but he kept talking. “And I’m not safe to be around. I have nightmares and I break things when I’m sleeping. If I hurt you by accident…” a dark look crossed his face, so miserable and wretched that she felt it deep in her soul.
But he wasn’t ready to talk about what had put that look there.
She took a deep breath. All she could do was try to break the mood.
“Hey. You know what I’ve never done before?” she said brightly.
“Laundry?”
Then he threw back his head and laughed as she punched him in the arm as hard as she could.
“You son of a bitch.”
“Well, I’m a wolf, Eileen, so yes. I’m a son of a bitch.”
“What I’ve never done before is take off my clothing in front of someone else, shift, and run through the woods.”
“You’ve never…” He shook his head in bafflement. “Never?”
“No. My group takes off our clothing indoors, in private rooms, then we shift, then we stroll for a while in animal form.” She glanced at the door, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “Shall we?”
“We shall.” He was gently mocking her, but the laughter in his eyes made her smile. “I’ll show you some of my favorite places.”
She followed him outside the cabin, turned her back on him, took her clothes off and folded them neatly.
She turned around to see him staring at her with amusement.
“Don’t go crazy now, Miss Wild Thing,” he said as she carefully set her clothing down on a tree stump by the side of the door. His clothes were in a pile on the ground.
She gave him a look of annoyance, sank to the ground and shifted. Marcus beat her to it. It took her about five seconds; he seemed to go from man to wolf in zero seconds flat.
Then, instead of walking slowly and daintily, she turned and ran straight for the treeline. She leaped over t
he tree stump he used as a chopping block, tore past the workshop and kept running.
She felt her heart speed up as he chased after her, and the wind rushed through her fur, and a thousand delicious scents swirled through the air. She pushed her way through bushes, not caring about the leaves and twigs that were tangling in her fur.
With Marcus’ massive wolf beside her, she happily snuffled in the dirt, sniffed the air, and even howled. Long, throaty howls of joy. She felt a freedom like she’d never known before, as if she’d shed a tight, constricting skin that restricted her movements and dulled her senses.
Heaven.
They finally raced back to the cabin, and when they reached the front door, they both shifted back and she stood there drawing in great gulps of air and feeling the cool air rushing over her sweat-dampened skin.
She thought Marcus would walk inside with her, but instead he just gave her a short, sharp nod, grabbed his clothing and headed over to the workshop, buck naked.
Chapter Nine
Wednesday morning
Eileen walked towards the lobby of the hotel, accompanied by Marcus. She was there to get the rest of her suitcases and check out of her room.
It was Wednesday, and it was a work day for Marcus, but Roman thought they should be together as much as possible so they could pull off the fake mating. Marcus had agreed he’d come to town with Eileen and let everyone see them, then go in to work late.
She’d spent the previous night tossing and turning on his bed while he slept in his workshop. Talk about a dream honeymoon.
He hadn’t been rude or anything, just…monosyllabic. He’d vanished back into himself. It was like those passionate kisses, so full of tenderness and hunger, and that wild, joyous race through the woods had never happened.
They’d joined the rest of the pack for dinner; Verity had showed up briefly, looked disappointed when she saw Marcus spoon-feeding Eileen dessert (because they’d been warned she was coming), and then left.
Eileen braced herself when they walked into her hotel room.
All Marcus did was glance at the mountains of clothing with a resigned shrug. “I’m going to need to build another wardrobe. Or three.”
Then he silently helped her to repack. He was swift and efficient. He loaded everything onto a rolling cart for her, and they headed downstairs without a word.
As they walked through the lobby, Marcus grabbed her hand and held it, and she felt warmth sizzle through her body. For a brief moment, Eileen actually thought he was showing her affection – then she saw who was walking into the hotel.
Eileen stopped dead in her tracks.
Her father, her personal assistant, Marisol, and her stylist, Ambrose, stood there with two of her father’s bodyguards. Verity was with them, with that perpetual frown pinching her brows. As ever, Marisol was a combination of business and style, in a pink tweed Chanel suit and pink pumps. Ambrose had sky-blue hair and wore a blue raw silk suit with a matching pocket square. He tried to hide the dismay on his face as he looked Eileen up and down.
“Well, this is quite the welcoming committee,” Eileen said, trying not to sound nervous. She felt a little braver with Marcus standing next to her.
Her father gave Marcus a startled glance. He had to tip his head back to do it. From the way he looked at Marcus’ faded denim jeans, construction boots and leather jacket, he wasn’t impressed.
“This can’t be your husband,” he said indignantly.
“And yet, it is.” She gave him a tight smile and patted Marcus’ arm. “Isn’t he dreamy?”
“You are already promised to Beacham.”
Marcus let out a growl of anger.
“Kindly show my mate some respect,” she said with genuine annoyance. Even if Marcus was her fake mate, her father couldn’t stand there and diss him like that.
“You married someone you met yesterday?” His voice was heavy with skepticism.
“We met a while ago. He’s the real reason I came to Silver Peak.” She smiled sweetly.
“Try again,” her father sneered, and instantly she felt like a little girl again – a stupid, clumsy little girl.
A rumbling snarl brought them all up short.
“Call my mate a liar one more time. Go ahead,” Marcus said, eyes flashing dangerously. Wow, if she hadn’t known better she’d have thought he actually cared about her. She knew it was fake, but it still felt good. He wouldn’t let anyone put her down or make her feel small and terrible – for as long as their charade lasted, anyway.
Both of her father’s bodyguards stepped forward, growling, shoulders hunched.
Marcus stepped in front of Eileen.
They were tall. He was taller. By several inches. He was broader.
And his eyes now had a crazed, furious light in them that sent a chill through Eileen. Both of the bodyguards hesitated. She knew what they saw in his eyes.
They saw their own death, if they pushed their luck any further.
They both hung their heads in submission and took a step back again. Eileen’s father spluttered in fury as he looked from one to the other in disbelief.
“Eileen,” Marisol said quickly. “Come on. You know you can’t take care of yourself. This man can’t hire you a cook or a maid. You’re out in the country; you’d need a gardener and groundskeeper to manage your estate.” Eileen choked on a laugh at the idea of Marcus’ cabin and small plot of property being called an estate. “Come home to us. Your every need is taken care of. You don’t have to lift a finger.”
“Maybe I want to lift a finger,” Eileen said rebelliously.
Marisol let out a martyred sigh. “This again?”
“Father,” Eileen said, ignoring her, “I have the paperwork from the pack, agreeing to the new road. Signed, bitten and pawprinted.” She pulled it out of her purse. “You said that the reason you need to marry me off was because I could never support myself. Of course, you never even let me try. But the first time I tried to negotiate a business deal, I succeeded.”
Her father looked at it in disgust. “I suppose you think this is some big whoop-te-doo. Just because you succeeded at something once, by accident, doesn’t mean you ever will again.”
“By accident?” Eileen was genuinely hurt. “You think the Alpha accidentally dropped a signed contract into my hand? You tried to get that deal and failed. Because you are rude to people, and you don’t know how to negotiate.”
His face flushed with anger. “I close deals all the time!”
“In New York, and nowhere else. Ever wonder why? Because outside of the city, you have no clout and you can’t intimidate people.”
His eyes blazed yellow and fur sprouted on his face. She must have really gotten to him if he was losing control like that. The Pennyroyals did not show their animal side in public.
He snarled and shook himself, and the fur sank back underneath his skin.
“I don’t care about the deal – you’re still marrying Beacham. Now you can come with me right now, or…” He glanced at the two bodyguards and hesitated. They hunched their shoulders up and stared at the floor.
They’d be looking for new jobs soon, Eileen was sure.
He turned to Verity. “Clearly this is fake!” he said angrily. “You can’t just let them flout the law like that!”
He glanced at her bare finger. “He didn’t even buy her a wedding ring!”
Oops, Eileen thought.
“Human tradition,” Marcus rumbled. “We don’t do wedding rings.”
Eileen’s father looked at Verity expectantly, as if she would whip out a pair of handcuffs or a giant butterfly net on the spot.
“Mr. Pennyroyal, we’ve been over this,” she said, with a faint hint of impatience creeping into her tone. Now that she’d been forced to deal with the man, she was clearly less dazzled than she’d been when she’d only known him by reputation. “She is an adult. I can’t legally force her to do anything, and neither can you. As for your complaint that the mating is fake, I said that I wi
ll be keeping an eye on them, and I’ve already stopped by the property several times to do so. But even if the mating was not valid, I couldn’t force her to return to New York with you.”
Her father made a last attempt, turning to glare at her and drawing himself up to his full height.
“Eileen. You will do as I say,” her father blustered.
“She stays with me. If you try to take her, I’ll challenge you here on the spot. And you’re the one who has to fight, not your bodyguards. Shifter law,” Marcus growled. “But after I kill you, I’m happy to take on both your bodyguards. At the same time. More fun that way.”
The bodyguards glanced at each other nervously and moved even further back.
“Father, let it go. I can mate whoever I want to,” Eileen said.
“Mate. Like an animal. You’re already starting to talk like these people.” He looked at her with disgust.
He cleared his throat. “This isn’t over. Moving on. I have a new office opening up here Friday, at 327 Main Street.”
“Because of me,” Eileen said.
He ignored her. “I am sure that you will come to your senses soon. I will allow you to stay on my payroll for the time being. It’s not as if anyone else would hire you. You will report to work tomorrow at nine a.m.”
“Fine,” Eileen said. That earned her a scowl and a low grumbling sound from Marcus, but she needed to work. She’d save up everything she earned, so that when her fake mating with Marcus ended, she wouldn’t be homeless.
Her father said to Marisol and Ambrose, “You will stay here in town until she realizes what a mistake she’s made. I need to go back home. She can’t function without your assistance.”
“I seem to be walking, talking and breathing all by myself,” Eileen said with annoyance. “I even crossed the street and didn’t get hit by a car.”
Marisol looked her up and down and winced. “At least let Ambrose coordinate your outfits,” she said in dismay.
“Good day to you too,” Eileen said. “Marcus, let’s go.”
They left the hotel, with Marcus hauling her cart full of suitcases.
Shifters of Silver Peak: Mate For A Month Page 5