“Yes, excellent work, Vik.” Ludo led the applause.
The clapping grew louder when the prime minister stepped forward to make a speech.
“Here goes,” Ludo muttered. Jago inhaled through narrowed nostrils.
It occurred to her this was them, their family, openly admitting, or acknowledging who they were, what they were. Oh, people had known, for sure. But this, this coming into the light, this match, could have repercussions… She scanned the crowd for Gerri, wanting to talk to her about it, but didn’t see her. She caught the eye of the CEO, Michael, who looked away as if he hadn’t seen her. He wouldn’t be much weight on the Calters’ side, then. Well, she would.
She jumped down from the step and instantly the twins’ arms tightened around her, steadying her. She wriggled, indicating she wanted free of their embrace. When they dropped their arms from around her waist, she took each hand and held it, slotting her fingers in between their longer, broader ones to squeeze. Their instant answering squeezes made her smile, and the sly caress Ludo gave of her palm with his little finger made her catch her breath.
Ellie clenched and unclenched his hand in a series of squeezes, long, short, long, short, short, short, short, short, until she spelled out the work CHEEKY in Morse code. She laughed out loud when Ludo’s fingers delivered an answering sequence of SEXY.
YOU ARE, she signalled back, her heart delighting in the stifled snort of laughter he gave.
Jago leaned back to look at them. “Stop that, kids.”
“Or?” Ellie whispered.
“Or…”
Within seconds, Ellie was trying to suppress a gasp when Jago stroked his thumb with slow deliberation over her wrist, making her pulse jump under his touch. Or. Okay. Ludo resumed his soft caress of her palm, and Ellie squirmed, caught between their touches, her nipples tightening into peaks beneath the thin material of her dress, and her new silk panties dampening. She stared straight ahead, not daring to look at either man, and saw Michael gazing stonily back at her.
As soon as she could, once the short speech she hadn’t caught a word of was over, she pulled free and made her way to the CEO. “We weren’t introduced. I’m Ellie,” she said, shoving her hand at him, forcing him to take it.
“So I gather.”
She didn’t think he was a shifter, but he gave a kind of sniff at her, a quick flare of his nostrils.
“You’re not in favour…”
“Of this?” He waved at the crowed foyer and huffed out a laugh. “No. I’ve worked for the family for many years with overall responsibility for management of company assets for the Calters now and Calters future, and I’d rather not see them turned into misguided ideas that hurt the brand. And yes, discretion worked for centuries; I don’t see any need to go holding a parade now.”
“And that’s precisely why a ‘parade’ is needed.” Ellie started, warming up, only to meet with an, “Excuse me,” and for her sparring partner to spin on his heel and leave before the bout began. Huh.
“Nice to meet you, too!” she called.
“Don’t take it personally. Oh, actually, do.” The thin brunette in the wraparound cocktail dress stood there.
“And you are…”
“Tori Jameson, Calter executive assistant.” She made no attempt to shake hands. “But Michael’s upset as well because this is family property, actually their original London home, and supposedly to be kept for future generations, only this generation decided to make it into a commercial venture as soon as their father was out of the picture, adding it to the company portfolio.”
“Oh. I didn’t know.” She looked around the hall, imagining the building as a private home, not short-stay apartments for executives. “Hang on. Upset as well? What’s he as well bothered about that I should take personally? The match?” she continued as Tori merely stood there, eyeballing her.
“Ummm…more all this, just to have you starry-eyed enough for them to get into your pants when they’ll only get bored with you after they’ve fucked you a few times. Anyway…” She shrugged. “It’s what they do. Dazzle a woman so they can screw her six ways from Sunday, then drop her like a stone, usually leaving a mess for someone else to clear up. Still. Bloody good fun while it lasts, though. Although it does spoil you for other men.”
“Wait. You—”
“So, yes, this cluster…fuck will not end well. Just thought you should know, sweetie.”
“I’m not your sweetie,” Ellie snarled. “And I don’t believe a word you say.”
“And I don’t give a toss.” Tori wriggled around a knot of people next to her and whirled away.
“You will!” Ellie promised through clenched teeth, turning to follow the lying woman. The ebbing crowd stopped her short, unable to make her way around the guy who’d made the first speech. Vikram, she recalled. Currently in conversation with another guy about his—and the Calters’—age, a friend he seemed to know well.
Vikram threw his head back as he laughed. “Nervous? Fuck, yes. Still shaking, see? First speech, first inauguration, first project—as if you wouldn’t be sweating buckets, Chris.”
His friend chuckled, making his unkempt wavy hair bounce. “I am, anyway. You’re not the only one scared of screwing up your chance. I still can’t believe I’ve got a fully fitted lab to play with, and that the project’s locked and loaded and already showing results.”
“Um. I totally getcha.” Vikram glanced around and indicated the Calter brothers. “Hey, raise your glass to the try-anything-once twins and their pick-and-mix approach to life, love and everything! If it wasn’t for their here-there-and-everywhere-manslut ways…”
“An example to us all!” his companion added.
Ellie turned away as his friend raised his glass high. Right, well Yes. Okay. She took a deep breath. Fine. Their lives were their own. Except…now she was a part of them. But not necessarily. As much as she might fantasize about those two fantastic-looking men, in the same way she did about Liam Hemsworth—and she would; give her time—that didn’t mean they were bound to be together. In fact, once they’d arranged, say, a few dates, for the match thing, there would be no need to—
“Trying to escape?”
She looked up from her head-down push through the crowd to Jago leaning against one side of the open doorway, and Ludo the other, blocking it. Like bookends. Broad-shouldered, powerful, debauched, manslut, bookends, leaning with ties loosened and ankles crossed and arms folded and a few unruly dark curls escaping. Not fair. And the pull she felt to them, even more not fair.
“I wish we’d arranged a more formal party, with music and lights,” Ludo continued, neither of them releasing her from their predatory stares.
“Why?” She had to ask.
“Because then we could dance with you.” He took a step towards her. “Well, we can dance at home. There actually is a ballroom.”
“Home— What?”
“Told you she wasn’t listening.” Jago grinned at his brother. “Just nodding along to that part about our match coming to live with us in our shifter community. You’ve lived with shifters before.”
Ellie nodded, then narrowed her eyes. She’d never heard about a — “Gryphon community?”
Ludo shrugged. “It’s pretty much just us. The last of the line.”
“And now you,” Jago said.
The words stroked down her spine, somehow, and the image in her mind’s eye of her, alone, pretty much, with Jago and Ludo, slow dancing in a romantic ballroom, their jackets off, shirts unbuttoned… Across the room, a woman’s high-pitched giggle rang out, cutting through the haze. Ellie shook her head.
“I can’t just take off. I’ve got nothing—”
“Your flatmate packed you a bag.”
“You agreed to the terms.”
With that, the twins stalked towards her. Before she could open her mouth to protest, Jago took her shoulders, bent his head and pressed his mouth to hers in a kiss. And what a kiss. It was scorching, making her open her mouth to t
ake in air, and when she did, he swept his tongue inside, delving deep, tasting even deeper. Ellie fought hard for breath when he pulled away, and her hand shot to her mouth.
Before her fingers could touch her lips, Ludo caught them, using the momentum to spin her to him. An incline of his head brought his mouth down on hers, burning in its demand. His tongue was hot against the seam of her lips, demanding she admit him, and of course she did, for him to explore and claim.
She hadn’t been aware she’d closed her eyes until the searing heat of Ludo was removed and his voice issued a gentle command for her to open them. She obeyed, staring into the azure heights of his, in which silver lights shone, then over his shoulder into the jungle depths of Jago’s, marvelling at the golden flecks gleaming there. Her nipples were hard points, painful against the silk of her dress, and her panties— Ellie suddenly remembered shifters’ enhanced senses. Oh, God, they must be able to smell her arousal, and all from a kiss!
The room, which had held its breath in a collective gasp, she belatedly realized, broke out into applause and whoops and cheers, everyone spectating and approving of the show they’d put on. Righting her glasses, Ellie caught sight of Mikki through the crowd—her traitorous flatmate gave her a thumb’s-up, and a grinning Jago and Ludo took her hands and led her away.
Chapter Four
“Where’s home?” Ellie asked a little while later, in the backseat of the Mercedes.
“Hadshire. About an hour’s drive.”
“Oh, the Hadshire Hills?”
Ludo nodded, catching her eye in the rear-view mirror. “On the edge of the Downs.”
“The national park’s to the south west.” Jago could see Ellie processing that. They’d made the mutual, unspoken decision to settle her in the back for the drive, understanding she needed a little space to deal with her overwhelming response to them. He doubted she’d ever reacted that way to a man before. And to a simple kiss—he could hardly wait until they touched her. The mental image of her between them on his bed was so alluring he had to fight to focus on the road ahead.
They’d shared many women, shifter and non-shifter, but never really expected their mate to be a human female.
“Why are we taking this longer route out of London?”
A sharp human female.
“I want to drive past the office.” There had been a few people milling in the square that housed the apartment block—they’d taken Ellie out through the basement exit and she hadn’t passed them—but there were none here outside the Calter Group building in Mayfair. They could have been mere gawkers and not protestors, but the brothers didn’t want to take any risk with their guest.
“And driving to and from Hadshire every day—you should be concerned about using up fossil fuel.”
“Oh, we are.” Hence funding Chris’s bio-crude.
“Well, it’s extravagant.” Ellie harrumphed and showed her glasses up her nose.
“I suppose we could always fly instead,” Ludo mused.
“Are you crazy? That burns much more hydrocarbons!”
“Not…necessarily,” Ludo said, leaving it to sink it.
“Oh.”
It had. He grinned at his brother. Their match was so responsive, both to their teasing and to their touch. Then the image struck him, of taking Ellie flying, showing her the world as he saw it. They’d never done that with anyone else, human or shifter, but now that the thought was there he could almost feel her astride him in his shifted form, her thighs gripping his flanks, her hands in his mane, her face buried in his neck. Would Ludo want that? He’d bet so. Would Ellie want that? He caught Jago’s raised eyebrow and wondered if his twin was imagining the same thing.
With them all lost in contemplation, the journey went quickly, and soon, their passenger was peering through the window, trying to see Haliford as they drove through. He sped halfway along the long lane out of the village up into the hills, then slowed at a slight fork to veer just inside the small gate there. A house stood just inside, on the left and he turned sharply onto the grass at its side.
“Oh.” Ellie got out before they could open the door for her and took in the L-shaped house, from its sandstone wings, up past the angles of its gables and gleam of its mullioned windows, to the slope of its slate roof and turret-like chimneys, all dark shapes in the night. “It’s smaller than I expected.”
“That’s guaranteed to make any man feel inadequate, love.” Jago grinned as he grabbed her bags from the trunk.
“Smaller than I thought it would be, with its age, I mean. Not that I think houses shrink as they get older.” Ellie bit her lip. “Don’t get me wrong—it’s bigger than anywhere I’ve ever lived. Probably all put together.”
“This is the Gatehouse.” Ludo took pity on her. “Well, the East Gatehouse. Sort of a back Gatehouse.” He unlocked the door and ushered her inside. “Described as an Elizabethan Hall in miniature.” He indicated the long corridor leading from the entrance hall, and the shorter one on the left to show her the L-shape.
“Supper, yes? I’ll cook while you get our match settled.”
“Stop calling me that! I have a bloody name!” Ellie yelled after Jago’s departing back. She followed Ludo up the staircase and into the large room over the shorter bit of the L shape. “Again, bigger than any bedroom I’ve ever had,” she commented. “Oh.” She looked around and swallowed. “Is it—”
“Yours.” He showed her the en suite bathroom, and smaller room through an alcove. It was designed as a dressing room, but he betted Ellie would use it as a study. “Our rooms are in the long wing.”
“Thank you. It’s…nice.”
“Ellie.” He crossed to her and took her hands to stop her wringing them. “I know this is…weird, to say the least…” He smiled when she laughed. “But it’s fine, really. No one is forcing anyone into anything. We’re just pleased we were matched with you, and hope you feel the same way.” Pleased. How inadequate. But it seemed to reassure her.
“I do. It’s fine. More than.”
“Good. So, come down for something to eat when you’re ready?”
“Do you mind if I change?” Ellie was plucking pins from her hair and scratching at it as she snatched up her case and dived for the bathroom.
“We’re not formal,” he assured her through the locked door, understanding when she came down the stairs a few minutes later in thick woolly socks, yoga pants and a long sweater. “Ah. Not that you wouldn’t look beautiful in a long gown with elbow-length gloves.”
“What? Never mind.” Ellie tucked her hair behind her ears and repositioned her glasses. “And you don’t have to keep that up. The flattery.”
“Not flattery.” Jago picked up the beat of the conversation as Ludo showed Ellie into the old stone kitchen at the end of the hall. “Compliments. To a beautiful lady.”
“You find me beautiful?”
Didn’t she see her own beauty, her lively intelligence and fiery passion shining in her brown eyes, their colour complemented by her silky-looking hair, with its myriad shades of brown he wanted to run his fingers through?
“We do,” Jago answered for him, clattering plates onto the table.
“Well, you’re both very handsome,” Ellie assured them. “Like, primetime-TV-medical-drama-consultant-surgeon handsome. Easily.”
“Thanks, I think? And cheese omelette okay?” Jago brandished the pan and spatula over their plates.
Ludo groaned. “Again? Wish you’d bloody learn to cook something other than eggs.”
“Wish you’d bloody learn to cook,” Jago riposted.
“Thisiswon’ful.” Ellie put her hand over her full mouth. “Sorry. Should’ve waited. Haven’t eaten yet today. Can’t cook anything. Only ready meals and toast,” emerged jerkily as she devoured the omelette, tomato salad, and bread and butter and drained her glass of wine.
“I’m pleased to see a woman who eats,” Ludo commented, holding up his hands in surrender when Ellie pointed her fork at him, preparing to harangue him,
no doubt for lumping an entire gender together, or something along those lines. Which reminded him. “Tell us about you. How you came to where you are in the shifter world.”
A little haltingly, she did, describing taking her first degree in Law at University College London, thinking to work in civil rights, until a module on Human Rights as applied to shifters—using the US as its example—make her switch direction, into an MSc in Social Anthropology at the London School of Economics. She’d gone to the US for field work and lived in shifter communities there. On her return, she’d developed her own PhD in Paraethnology, during which she’d lived among UK shifters, something the press seemed to find fascinating. Ellie curled her lip at that. After that, the Home Office had consulted her on several issues, such as safety when drawing up integration legislation or norms, and she’d been called to testify in court, as an independent expert in several high-profile shifter cases.
Which had led to her becoming the media’s go-to, whenever shifters were in the news, like yesterday. “It keeps grants coming in,” she admitted, accepting another glass of wine. “The Home Office’s original one wasn’t much, and soon ran out. I learnt the hard way about the need for funding, for the shifter NGO.”
“Now you’re an independent research consultant? You produce reports, articles, and so on?”
Ellie scowled at Jago. “Not fair that you’ve had time to google me and I haven’t had a second to research you.”
He sat back in his chair, arms open wide. “Ask away, love.”
“Don’t call—” She inhaled. “Why don’t you use the proper house?”
“Would you, for two people?”
“Hmm. Where’s your father?”
“Spain. He thought the climate on his estates there would be better for him. And I think he feels closer to our mother there. Her father was Spanish; she grew up there.”
“Oh. So, it all came to your father on her marriage. Typical.”
“Yep, the Calters acquire property the old-fashioned way—they marry it.” Or so people had said of them, through the ages. Ludo jerked his chair back with a harsh squeal to stand and clear the table.
Paranormal Dating Agency: Think of England (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Roar Britannia Book 1) Page 3