by Amy Redwood
“Thank you, Candace,” he said, and stretched out his hand, which I shook hesitantly. “If I have more questions, I’ll be in touch, so please don’t leave the city for the foreseeable future.”
“I won’t,” I said, “but I can’t stay in this house anymore.”
“Reason?”
“Broke.”
To my surprise, he gave a short laugh. “Well, one more reason not to vanish from my radar. There’s a check heading down the road, and if procedure isn’t questioned along the way your name will be on it.”
“A check? What do you mean?”
“Candace, while you were innocently attending the entrepreneur meeting, you got caught up in a running investigation against a known criminal and you were able, while fighting for your own life, to secure the crucial evidence that slipped through the cracks of my own planted undercover men,” he said, taking in a deep breath. “And you turned it in the next day after your initial shock subsided. I am happy to tell you that there is a reward on the Scribe’s head for anyone helping with the arrest.”
“But that’s not me, that’s Seth,” I whispered.
“No, it is not. Because you handed me the book.” Simon gave me a pat on the back. “Looks like Seth passed on the reward. The DEA is still looking for him, but he passed on the chance of clearing his name by turning in the book. And he isn’t even the one who brought down the man who nearly killed his baby sister. Any idea why he would sacrifice all that?”
“No, no, I really don’t.”
“I’m sure you will figure it out eventually.” And to my surprise, he gave me a wink. “Good luck, Candace.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, seeing Simon out and then locking the door. “Do I look like I need saving?” I winced because, evidently, Seth thought so. And he wasn’t half wrong.
I balled my hands and forced a smile. I had my future to plan, and damn it, if I would let myself be distracted by moping after a guy. Even if I missed hearing him call me silly pet names already. Leaning my forehead against the door, I wondered what I’d say if he ever crossed my path again.
Chapter Ten
“Are you sure you don’t want company? We could order in dinner.”
“I’m fine,” I said, and all but shoved Jenna over the doorstep. “I’d rather be alone tonight.” For various reasons, I thought, and taped the last moving box shut across the top.
“Okay,” Jenna said, giving me a thumbs-up. “See you tomorrow. You’ll see, the move will be a walk in the park!”
I smiled and waved through the glass window as Jenna slid into her car.
A drizzle of rain had set in, the sky a dull gray. Neither stars nor moon in sight, although I could feel the pull in my stomach. A plastic bag was dancing through the air, blown up like a balloon by the ever-increasing wind.
With Jenna’s help and two hired hands, we had packed up my professional equipment faster than expected. Now all that was left were a few odd items in my apartment, which I planned to pack before the moving truck came in the morning. I hoped the weather calmed overnight, but either way, I couldn’t delay moving anymore.
Walking up the stairs to my bedroom, I felt as if the last four weeks had passed in a busy blur—the negotiations with the bank to help with immediate cash problems and to support my new business plan. If only I had opened their letters to me sooner, then I’d have known that they were willing to help me, provided I met all their conditions.
But the final piece was still missing—my new retail site. The bank manager had made it quite clear that it all came down to picking a highly visible, highly trafficked area. But the properties to lease in those kinds of areas weren’t exactly affordable. Something I would continue to worry about tomorrow.
I sank down on the mattress, curled my fingers into the sheets and then ran my hand along the bed’s footend. As always, the cool metal made my palms itch and my heart flutter. It was easy to imagine a pair of handcuffs dangling from the thick iron bars of the foot- and headboard.
The nerve of him, sending me a new bed. I’d been so flabbergasted when I saw the two delivery guys pack up my old bed, by the time I protested, they just gave me a customer service number if I wanted to complain and left me with a king-sized bed that made my bedroom look dainty. I’d slept like a baby for the last four weeks tucked inside it while occasionally waking up panting because my dreams had taken on a decidedly erotic edge.
The bed was the only evidence I hadn’t imagined Seth.
The bed…and the check for fifty grand.
I stripped off my sweaty work clothes, prepared my nightcap and stepped into the shower. After a quick rinse down, I wrapped myself in a towel, looking forward to a dreamless night. Shaking my head to get rid of the droplets of water clinging to my hair, I froze. The wind was howling louder than before, as if someone had opened a window. A cool draft wafted into the bath from the gap underneath the door and tickled my bare legs. But it was the scent of wood and leather and something utterly male that made me grasp for hold.
My stomach did a somersault as I stared at the closed bathroom door. I pulled my shoulders back and looked around for something to wear. There was nothing. Securing the towel more tightly, I opened the door, thinking I was prepared.
“This is breaking and entering,” I said, crossing my arms so he wouldn’t see my shaking hands. He sat on the windowpane facing inward. Goose bumps erupted on my skin, but not because of the cold air streaming into the room.
“Only entering,” he said casually. “The window wasn’t locked.” He shot a look around the room, lingering on the bed, then on a stack of cardboard boxes.
I’d forgotten how big this guy was, but not that he had a dimple in his chin when he smiled.
Flustered, I grabbed the pile of clothes I had laid out for the next day and went into hiding inside the bathroom again. Trust him to turn up when I came fresh from the shower. I slipped into underwear, a baggy button-down shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Not chic, but decidedly better than a towel.
“Why are you moving?” he called through the closed door.
“Not that it’s any of your concern but I can’t afford to stay here anymore,” I said, smoothing down the shirt as I stepped back into the bedroom.
His brow knitted, a vee-shaped frown on his forehead. “You didn’t get the reward?”
“It’s yours,” I said, feeling the same rage I had when the check had landed in the mailbox. “How dare you play the hero by manipulating me into turning over the evidence? I don’t need saving.” Not quite true, I thought. He definitely saved me from making the biggest mistake of my life—setting a building, and myself, on fire.He closed his eyes as if I were being complicated. “I was afraid you would react like that.” Despite the weather, he wore only a tee and jeans but had a black leather bag strapped to his back, which he now dropped to the floor.
I waved toward my desk, wondering what was inside the bag. “Go ahead. The check is inside the drawer.”
“With your name on it,” he said calmly.
“I’ll cash it for you,” I shot back. “And while we are at it, what were you thinking with that.” I gave the bed a kick, instantly regretting it when pain seared into my foot.
“It was a gift.”
“I tried to return it,” I said, which wasn’t entirely true.
“Now that would have hurt my feelings,” he said, placing his hand over his heart.
“Bottom line,” I said, “it was uncalled for.”
“I broke your old bed.”
“Well, I already regretted that I tied you to it!” Must stop yelling, I thought, wishing he would tell my why he’d finally come back to me after all these weeks.
His eyebrow rose and he zipped open his backpack, slipped his hand inside, and I rose to my toes and craned my neck to find out what he had hidden inside but still couldn’t see a thing. “Are you angry at me?” he asked, fixing me with a dark stare.
“Why would I be angry?”
“Because I left you
so long alone?”
Yes. A lump formed in my throat. “It’s not like I was wringing my hands waiting for you to show up again.”
“Of course you weren’t,” he said, making me squirm. “But in case you were, I had to wait until Simon got off my back for good. They also had their eyes on you for a while.” Again, he started rummaging through the backpack. “And I wanted to wait until it was confirmed that the Scribe wasn’t going to be set free because of a procedural error.”
“What’s inside your bag?”
“Nosy much?” he replied, and to my disappointment, his hand emerged empty. “I’ll show you later,” he said, winking, and I realized he was just teasing me. “So, how have you been, honey?” He cocked his eyebrow.
“You know I hate being called that, don’t you?”
“But you taste like honey,” he said, his lowered voice sending shivers across my skin. “You taste sweet all over, but there’s one spot I especially enjoy.”
I wrapped my arms tighter around myself, my nipples turning into aching points. “Is that so,” I drawled, almost able to feel the sliding friction of his tongue between my legs. Damn him for turning me into a damp puddle of lust.
“Yes, that’s just so.” He took two steps toward me until his breath feathered over my face and I glanced up to meet his eyes. “I’ll show you.” Closing his hands around my waist, he pulled me close.
“Show me what?” I whispered when his lips brushed against mine. “This isn’t what I had in mind…”
“You can tell me later what you had on your dirty mind,” he said against my mouth.
I stiffened when the tip of his tongue touched the center of my bottom lip. The feeling shot straight between my legs.
“Love your mouth,” he said, and sucked my bottom lip between his teeth and bit down gently. “Plump and wet and sweet,” he murmured, his tongue tracing my lips. “Made for kissing.”
His tongue delved deep, taking all. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I rose on tiptoe and threw myself into his kiss. He cupped my face, breathing hard. “My wolf girl,” he whispered, backing me up against the wall, seeking my mouth again.
The taste of him, the scent of his skin made me groan in lust. The groan turned into a snarl and I stepped away from him, chest heaving. My vision wavered as my eyes shifted, the room spinning.
“No,” I gasped, forcing my nails into the palms of my hand to anchor me in my human body and to stop the shift. Confused, I slipped away from under his grasp, wondering why it was as if something in his kiss had woken my inner wolf. Almost as if he were a wolf himself…
My head snapped up, the thought shaking me to the bones. My gaze flickered to the tall glass of water standing on my desk. I needed my drink, right now.
I caught him leaning forward, caught his knowing gaze.
Should I carelessly stroll to my desk or leap? He flexed his fingers at the same time I leaped. My fingertips brushed the cool glass, and then he closed his hand around it.
Freezing on the spot with my arms still outstretched, I first glanced at the glass in his hand then met his gaze full-on.
“Give that back to me.”
“Is this what I think it is?”
“Give me back that glass and then get the hell out of my bedroom before I kick your ass for troubles caused.”
“Now that’s just unfriendly.” He began swirling the water around until it all but spilled over the edge.
My entire body stiffened in fear but I was drawn to his movements with hypnotic fascination. I had stocked up on my supply, sure. But all other sachets were securely stored in a moving box. Who knew how long it would take to find the right box and prepare a fresh drink while he was in my bedroom.
When he dropped the glass, I shrieked, only to see him catch it before it hit the floor, miraculously without spilling a drop.
“Whoops, butterfingers,” he said.
“Asshole.” Sweat trickled down my back and I kept my body poised to jump him at the first opportunity.
“If you jump, I’ll just let it drop,” he said quietly.
Fuck.
“Please, Seth,” I said, hating how my voice broke. “Please.” I stretched out my arms, never more desperate to taste the foul brew. With it, I could be Candace Walker, the normal, well-behaved woman who went to bed at ten thirty each night. “I need this, Seth, please understand.”
“Where did you get that stuff from anyway,” he asked. “How does it work?”
“It’s plant based. I get it from three different pharmacies and mix it myself.”
“Some plants are poisonous, sweetheart, as you very well know. Who came up with the recipe? You?”
“Tim was a biochemist.”
He was silent, wearing an expression as if I had clubbed him—hurt, dazed, angry. He closed his eyes, asking, “How many tests before he found a mix that worked?”
“A few,” I whispered, remembering the pain and the cramps and the pain. “But in the end it worked. It was worth it.”
“He could have killed you.”
“I need it.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I’ll rip out your throat, you know I can.”
His eyes widened in alarm, and then a gurgle of deep laughter reached my ears. “Come on, honey, give it your best shot.”
I shook my head, amazed at his ignorance. Did he really think he could stop me? “If I don’t have that glass back on the desk at the count of three, you’ll lose a valued member of your body.”
“You wouldn’t hurt a fly,” he said, but backed up to the open window.
“One.”
He held the glass under his nose. “Mmm, smells great.”
“Two.”
“You’re very sexy when you’re upset, have I ever told you?” He swung one leg over the frame.
“You coward,” I screamed as he swung his other leg over the windowpane in a clear attempt to flee.
“You forgot to count.”
“You know how I am when I don’t get the drink,” I said, balling my fists. “Why are you doing this?” Why in all hell would he want me to turn into such a monster if I have the means to prevent it?
“You’re a smart girl,” he said, lifting his eyebrow. “After two comes three.”
“I think I hate you.”
“I’m hoping for the opposite.”
I leaped at him, letting out a triumphant yell when I grabbed hold of a fistful of his clothes. “You will not run away. I am not finished with—”
Even above the howling wind, the sound of glass shattering made me shut up and my stomach plunge.
Blinking away tears, still holding a fistful of his shirt in my hand, I leaned out the window. Shards of glass glittered on the pavement.
I barely registered how he swung his legs inside again and dragged me away from the window toward the bed.
“Sit,” he said, giving me a push.
The tremor started from my hands and crept slowly up my arms, along my torso and down to my legs. I tried to hold it in but rage and fear fought a battle and fear won. Once more, I was caught without my fix the second month in a row.
Even if I prepared a fresh drink tonight, he’d find a way to stop me from drinking it, I was sure.
“Is that what you want,” I asked quietly, “do you want me on my knees, begging you to fuck me? Is that why you won’t let me have my drink?”
And if that was what he wanted, he’d get it, I thought. I’d rather beg him to fuck me than turn into a wolf. I sought his dark gaze and saw for a second unease flicker across his features.
He knelt in front of me, taking my hand. “No, that wasn’t my intention.” When I still gave him a doubtful look, he crossed his heart. “Hit man’s honor.”
It made me smile, if just a little. “Why then?”
“Because I want the real you,” he said, pushing a gentle finger between my breasts. “I want you in all your raw beauty. The powerful, passionate and wild you. Not a drugged, tame and fixed girl.” He
rubbed my shoulders until the shiver subsided under his strokes.
“And that’s why you came tonight,” I asked, bitterness creeping into my voice. “So you could turn me into something I don’t want to be?”
“You turn yourself into something you don’t want to be each time you deny your true nature.”
I felt like covering my ears. “Easy for you to say,” I pressed through my teeth.
“But to answer your question,” he said, and the movements of his hands turned slow and decidedly not meant to be comforting, “I came to collect a debt.”
“A what?”
“A debt,” he said. “Or did you think I’d forgotten our deal?”
“Deal, what deal?” I watched him get up to slam the window shut and return with his backpack. When he slipped his hand inside it, it didn’t emerge empty-handed. Pulling out a roll of heavy-duty power cable, he gave me the most unnerving smile I’d ever seen.
“What’s that?” Comprehension dawned and I pulled my legs under and away from him.
“That’s part two of my gift.” He gave the mattress a slap with his hand, making me bounce on top of it. “It goes along with the bed.”
The cable landed with a heavy thud next to my feet. I gave it a push with my toe. “No way.”
“I’m tempted to say ‘way’, wolf girl.”
“What happened to silk scarves or ropes,” I whispered, the sight of the thick and sturdy cable making my heart race.
“Sorry, honey, but you’re a strong girl.”
“Meaning?” I said, deciding to let it slide that he’d called me honey.
“Meaning that you’d rip silk or any other material to shreds, but this,” he lovingly patted the cable, “has a core of solid iron.”
I swallowed away the rising tension but couldn’t help noticing that while my mind still reeled, my body was tingling all over. An iron bed, iron cables—I’d be never able to break free if he tied me down. I might not even be able to shift. “You want me helpless, don’t you?” I whispered. “You want to dominate me because I am so much stronger than you. That’s why you need to tie me down. You want to humiliate me.”
“I’d never humiliate you, wolf girl.”