by Em Ashcroft
“You’re perfect, too.” She licked her lips, attracting his attention. He withdrew and plunged back, drawing her into the dance.
Laughing, she joined him, arching up to press her body against his, gasping when he touched the spot inside her that sent her wild. Every part of her reached to him, stretching to claim him. He watched her, staring into her eyes while he built her orgasm, controlling it and holding her deliciously on the brink until he drove both of them into oblivion.
Crying his name, she clutched at him, grabbing his shoulders as he growled and then yelled.
Rolling off her, he left the bed briefly. She was drowsing when she heard the toilet flush and he came back to bed.
“Short and sweet,” she murmured.
He rolled her into his arms. “Very sweet. Not so short. It’s daylight. Go to sleep, honey. I’ll wake you when we need to get up.”
For the first time in… she couldn’t remember how long, Rachel had left her phone downstairs. It occurred to her that her priorities had changed, but she was too delightfully dozy to think about it now.
* * * *
CJ rolled out of bed when his phone beeped and headed for the shower in a better mood than he could remember. The glow of lovemaking still affected him, sending him out on his early shift in a great frame of mind.
After dressing, he went outside and into the stables. The horses whickered and stamped, ready for their food. Most were the even- tempered animals they used for the ranch’s inexperienced customers, but they had a few spirited animals for the expert riders and for their own use. He murmured to them as he went down the line, checking all was well. The door to the corral was open, and a few had gone outside to enjoy the early morning sun. They returned when they sensed him. CJ reached out his senses. Not even shape-shifters could talk to animals, but his empathy enabled him to spread his good mood and share it with them. They responded, the sounds and scents of the stables soothing him.
CJ had discovered a rare affinity with horses. Brought up in the city, he’d never realized he had it before he came here. That had been by accident, the result of his wanderings after he’d left home, a deliberate tactic to avoid people who might want to know where he was. There wasn’t much of a chance, but he never intended to go back where he came from. The moment he’d walked under the wrought-iron arch over the main entrance to the ranch, he’d gotten a sense of belonging. Strange to him because he’d never felt that way anywhere before.
He went outside and leaned on the fence by the corral.
Contentment was a strange emotion to CJ. He had no idea it would feel this good. Rachel had given him more than her body. Her happy character had transmitted something to him, dispelled some of the gloomier parts of his soul. He’d only ever looked for a place where he could make a difference, be of some use, and he’d found so much more. A breed partner who looked out for him and, now, a potential breedmate.
He yearned for her, more than he let her or anyone else know. To have a person to look after, someone who loved him… He’d never had experience of that. Sam liked him, cared for him even, but CJ wanted a woman, more than a friend or a casual hookup. The problem was he didn’t know what to do about it or how to cope with her. A woman in his house full time? Sure, they had the room set aside for their breedmate, but that was just custom. It was what people did around here. He’d never imagined anyone using it. Not until now. But he could see Rachel there, in the big room that lay between his room and Sam’s, and he could see them…
His imagination wasn’t that good. The room had a bed big enough for three, but CJ never, ever stayed the night with any woman he fucked. He couldn’t do it. Maybe she wouldn’t like it. Hell if he knew, and in any case, Rachel wasn’t his. He just wanted her to be. She had a life, and it didn’t work for him. No way could he ever live in the city again, so he’d just have to take care. If his seed touched her, and Sam’s, they’d bond whether they wanted to or not. He’d have to take a trip into town and stock up on condoms.
Which reminded him, he had to check the cars over. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said the others were at the garage. Two vehicles plus the motorcycles were usually enough for them at this time of year. If one of the hands wanted a car, they could borrow one or bring their own into work. Most of the guys here were the same as CJ—loners who preferred their own company.
With one last look at the horses, CJ turned away and strode to the garage. It was fuller than last night. Landon, Diego, and Brooke must have come home from the hotel because the big four-wheel drive with the child seats in the back was standing next to the two cars and the motorcycles. Since they were vacationing, the others had put their cars into the garage for their annual service, apart from this one. Travelling mobbed up was what Brooke called it.
They’d help out for the next week, and then CJ and Sam would have the ranch to themselves for a while. If they could persuade Rachel to stay on after the fucking shoot had done, they could have some fun. Skinny-dipping in the hot tub out back, for instance. They had enough privacy to ensure it for her. The thought made his groin ache, and CJ put the notion out of his mind for now while he got down to business.
The tools were in a big red metal cabinet at one side of the garage. CJ pulled the keys from his pocket, but he didn’t need them. Somebody had opened the chest first, none too carefully from the scratches around the lock. The fuckers should take more care.
The cars were open. The garage was secure enough. He opened the door to the first one and popped the hood. This one belonged to him, a gleaming black Ford, the nearest he could get to armor plating with comfort. He liked a solid vehicle. Nothing wrong there he could see. Slamming down the hood, he went back to the driver’s seat and tried the engine. No go.
Maybe he’d have to get the garage to come out and tow it.
Sam had the vintage Range Rover. He lavished this thing with loving care, waxed it himself, and kept the interior pristine. Everybody had to have a hobby. Grinning, CJ lifted the hood, but just like the Ford, he couldn’t find anything wrong. Shit, he hadn’t thought he’d have to spend longer than a half-hour on fixing them. Truthfully, he’d tried his own car last night, and when it hadn’t started, he’d used it as an excuse to get her to stay. Which had worked.
Now he got worried.
He took another look at the cars, a better look with a flashlight. Then he went back to the tool chest and examined that.
Then he swore long and loud.
He stormed back to the house and crashed through the back door.
Sam and Rachel looked up from the table, where they appeared to be having a leisurely breakfast. “Sit down, buddy. I saved some eggs and ham,” Sam said, getting to his feet.
When he took a proper look at CJ, he froze.
Rachel swallowed. “What’s wrong?”
“Both cars are fucked, and it’s not an accident or wear and tear. Somebody sabotaged them.”
“Ah, shit. You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Who’d do that?” Sam reached the same conclusion CJ had the minute their eyes met. “He’s back, isn’t he?”
* * * *
Seated in the ultra-modern sitting room of the other ranch house, Rachel blinked as she looked around. This room was so different from the traditional ranch house. True, Sam and CJ had modernized their place, but they’d kept the traditional look. Here she could be sitting in one of the million-dollar condos scattered around Manhattan.
But she had more on her mind than décor right now. After the single, cryptic comment, Sam had hauled her up and taken her to the house next door. CJ walked in front, muttering something about having to tell them. What the fuck was going on?
CJ paced the floor until everyone had settled themselves. The twins had shape-shifted again and were rolling and tumbling around the floor, causing one of their parents to occasionally separate them when their play grew rough or one complained.
“When they start walking and talking, we can teach them to control themsel
ves better,” Brooke told Rachel.
Questions lurked in her eyes, but she didn’t ask Rachel anything. Rachel guessed her secret was out. Even if Brooke didn’t talk, somebody else would notice for sure. She hadn’t realized her encounter with Sam and CJ would be so explosive, so all-consuming. Or that she would want to stay in bed all day, even if she had work to do.
CJ turned and faced them all. He was the only person standing. “The cars wouldn’t start because someone messed with them. My car’s last year’s model, all computerized. Somebody dropped sugar in the tank. I smelled it when I took the cap off.” He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sam’s vintage Range Rover? Somebody cut the brake lines nearly all the way through. We could have gotten to the road into town before they snapped.” He glanced at Rachel. Sam got up from his chair and walked to stand behind her.
Diego said what Sam had back in their house. “He’s back.”
“Fuck.” Landon moved closer to Brooke, and curved his arm around her shoulders as if to protect her. “I was hoping it was a one-time thing.”
Diego explained to Rachel, his eyes grave. “Last year, when Brooke fell off her horse, we suspected somebody had fucked around with the lists matching riders to horses. But we couldn’t discover anything, and although we watched, nothing else happened. An accident. But this—” He waved vaguely in the direction of the garage. “This was deliberate. Fuel contamination doesn’t happen accidentally, especially that way. Brake lines cut? Sheeit.”
“I’ve called the garage. They’ll come for the cars later today,” CJ said. “So what do we tell people?”
“People? Oh, shit the magazine folks. They’ll be here soon, won’t they?” Landon said. “Nothing. What can they do? And in any case, that kind of news spreads. We can’t let this out, not yet.”
Diego was watching the babies, his dark blond hair falling in a swathe across his forehead. “We’ve got to get them out of here.”
The other three men spoke in unison. “I agree.”
Rachel exchanged a glance with Brooke. Her face was probably as white as her friend’s. “The babies?”
“Shape-shifter babies are precious. There still aren’t many,” Landon explained gravely.
“All babies are precious,” Rachel said. Nobody disagreed with her, but that wasn’t the point. “You have to get them away.”
“Do what you planned,” CJ said. “Go on your honeymoon. We’ll check out your car before you leave, but I don’t think it was messed with. When did you get here?”
“Around seven,” Brooke said. “We planned on getting an early start.”
In a sudden movement, she bent and swept the cubs on to her lap. They sprawled over hers and Landon’s knees, still playing, swatting at imaginary foes. They really were precious.
“You should go, too,” CJ said to Rachel.
Rachel shook her head. “I’m here for work, remember? Why should I go?”
Sam put his hands on her shoulders, massaging gently. “Because the last time this happened was when the magazine people were here. It could be one of them.”
CJ rubbed his chin. “Or it could be meant to look that way. It’s not an accident. We know somebody altered the lists of riders when Brooke got a horse completely unsuited to her. She was down as an expert looking for a challenging ride, not a beginner, as she was. The car might not have killed us, but it would have hurt us. Whoever is doing this doesn’t care whether we live or die. They want to cause trouble, or disrupt our normal routine.”
“Could be the Grid,” Landon said tersely.
Rachel stared at CJ. “What’s the Grid? I’ve vaguely heard of it, but I didn’t take much notice. Wasn’t it something to do with Lanier’s Bank failing?”
CJ sighed. “The bank was used as a front to embezzle funds for the Grid. That’s how it came to people’s notice. The Grid hates shape-shifters. It believes we should be destroyed or taught to be what they consider normal. That would be never to shift and to be ashamed of what we are. They’re rich and, for the most part, hidden, although there’s a lobbying group in Washington, DC. They want to put members in the legislature. The covert organization tried to breed shape-shifters for their own experiments, to see if we could be converted back. They developed a solution to turn women into potential breedmates, so they could capture them and breed their own. Like super soldiers, if you like. Then somebody dropped the solution into the water supply, and it went worldwide.”
“That’s how it got there?” Rachel said. She had been too busy building her career to pay too much attention to anything but fashion news. If somebody talked about Armani’s autumn collection, she could virtually name it piece by piece, but apart from the president and the main government officials she’d be hard put to name a dozen politicians. Now she felt stupid. She had no idea how the stuff had gotten into the water supply—only that it was there. Why hadn’t she watched the news reports closer?
Because she’d tired herself out learning her job, that was why. But it was no excuse. “I should have known.”
Sam’s massage didn’t stop, and despite her worry, she leaned back into it.
“No you shouldn’t,” he said. “It’s shape-shifter business, and most shifters still have that instinct to separate themselves from humans.”
“It’s debatable who did the separating,” Brooke said sharply. “And it’s not excusable, either way.”
“Yeah, I love philosophy,” CJ said, “but we’ve got half an hour before the minibus arrives from the hotel. Do we let them come? Do we tell them? What?”
Another ten minutes and they’d more or less agreed. Yes to letting them come because they needed to show business as usual, but they’d put the hands on guard. Although the ranch employed casual workers in the heaviest vacation seasons, the only ones on the ranch right now were the regulars, core staff who worked permanently for them.
“But we only tell the overseers,” CJ said. “The others haven’t been working here long enough for us to really know them. Ronny Lanier worked for years at his bank before he started embezzling for the Grid. They put sleepers into places and wait until the time is right.”
“You’ve been drinking too much, buddy,” Diego said. “It’s gotta be somebody from the magazine. These things only happen when they’re here.”
“They might be waiting until the right time, putting the blame on the magazine people.” CJ strode to the window, stared out, and then came back, his restless pacing suggesting the animal that was his other form, like a tiger confined in a cage. “We need to find out more. Like who knows cars and how to sabotage them.”
Sam rubbed his chin. “Okay, we’ll just tell the overseers. Jeb, Seth, and Mike. They’ve all been with us for ten years or more. Jeb and Seth are shifters, anyhow.”
“There’s no guarantee it’s not a shifter doing this,” Landon pointed out. The cubs were asleep now, babies once more, naked, curled up in their parents’ arms. He gazed at them. “We’ll get going before the bus gets here. We’re all packed. We were going to stay and help you today, but I can’t do it.”
“We have to go,” Brooke said. She glanced at Rachel. “You understand, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” she said, and she meant it. She’d never been closer to Brooke than she felt now. They’d never really been friends until they came here, and then Rachel, getting nervous, had talked her to death. They would have shared a cabin, except Brooke had hurt her leg and the guys had taken her in. Their emails over the last year, as Brooke had helped Rachel get used to her new job, had brought them closer. “You go,” she said now. “Take care of your babies.” Because they were right. The two helpless beings were precious.
“And whatever Sam says, you’re not going back to the hotel,” CJ said firmly.
Rachel leaped to her feet and planted her hands on her hips. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
* * * *
After he’d dragged his breed partner and Rachel back to their house, to give the other three
space to pack their stuff and leave, Sam stood facing them, hands on his hips. He was mad with both of them, Rachel for spitting fire and CJ for breaking the decision to her so abruptly. They’d never persuade her now. She’d never believe they weren’t working together. He wanted her to stay for selfish reasons. He wanted her, night and day, and since she was sharing her room at the hotel, they couldn’t do what he wanted there. CJ’s protective instincts had clearly kicked in. All he wanted to do was take care of her.
Fuck. Rachel sat on the sofa, her legs crossed and her arms folded under her breasts, glaring at the both of them. Sam stood, and CJ sat, but not next to her. She’d made it clear with her body language she didn’t want that.
“We had a good time, guys, but this isn’t till death. If Mason finds out we’ve been—well, he’ll try to get me to persuade you to use the house.”
Sam blinked. “What?”
“He wants to use the house for the shoot. He says the old-world atmosphere is just what he wants.”
“The fuck he does.” Sam glared around at the comfortable furnishings. They had this place like they wanted it, not a showpiece. It was their intensely personal space. “We never let anybody in here. Not even the guests.”
Rachel’s pretty eyes widened. “You’re kidding! You don’t entertain here?”
“Nope.” CJ’s eyes flashed. “This is our sanctuary. A retreat. The hands come in the kitchen to eat sometimes, but they go no farther.”
“Why?”
Sam exchanged a glance with CJ. “We just prefer to keep it that way. Tell your boss no.”
“What about Kevin?” CJ said suddenly.
Rachel laughed. “He’s a wimpy kid. Please, it’s not Kevin. For fuck’s sake, all he thinks about is cameras.”
“Sure?” CJ demanded. “He could have snuck around the garage last night.” He glanced at Sam. “I’m going to make friends with the runt. Find out what he knows about cars.”