by J. C RIMELL
What the bloody hell just happened?
Chapter Nineteen
Cade cursed himself for the hundredth time that week. Since walking into Kit's dream, his wolf had turned his back on him from within, totally pissed.
He'd called into the café, only to learn Jo had told Kit to take some time off. Madoc had confirmed that Kit seemed to be doing better after paying her another visit.
Throwing his legs over the edge of the bed, he rubbed his hands back and forth through his hair. After a frustrated sigh and a roll of his eyes at his stupidity, he got his naked butt up and made his way to the bathroom. Turning on the shower he slipped straight in, stepped under the spray and bit off a curse as the extra jets hit his chest with an icy blast. He was coiled like a spring, the last thing he needed was heat to fuel his desires any further right now.
The icy spray calmed both he and his wolf. He let his mind wander through the unavoidable images still vibrant and alive in his mind. It was easy to remember Kit's plump, soft lips, the smell of her scent playing havoc with his senses. His cock sprang to life despite the chill of the water that ran down his pectorals and onto the head of his erection. Closing his eyes, he took himself into his fist. He saw her face and remembered the feel of her small, feminine hand in his own.
Kit's sweet, husky voice filled his ears, like a summer breeze, warm and comforting and alive. A blanket of ease draped over him, a soothing balm upon his tight muscles. But after several minutes, he was still unable to relax into a rhythm despite his sexual hunger for Kit. He opened his eyes to the sudden realization he may have completely blown it. Frustrated, Cade let himself fall free from his hand, his arousal simmering until it faded, falling flaccid against his thigh. His wolf surfaced, and he clenched his jaw so tight his fangs cut into his lower lip.
His chest expanded with anger and disappointment. He drew in a deep breath and his eyes turned a steely, thunderous gray. How could he be so foolish to think she would have believed him? The rage boiled upward until it overflowed. Unable to contain it, a deep growl ripped through his chest as he swung his hand backward and clenched his fist. He thrust it forward with a mighty blow shattering a dozen sections of the Racconti tiles and sending them splintering into the slate base. As well as leaving many razor sharp shards lodged in his knuckles.
Blood pooled at his feet. His fist pounded in pain where he'd broken the metacarpal bones and the joints too, he imagined. Cade dropped his head onto his chest and watched the hand balloon. Not that he cared, it would heal. The only thing he cared about was his mate and he'd sent her running in the opposite direction. He had no idea what the hell he could do to win her over. With a groan, he shut off the shower, grabbed a hand towel off the rack and wrapped it around his hand. It was healing fast, but he would have to get the shards of tile out before it began to regenerate.
After hastily toweling off, he got dressed. Throwing on some clean clothes, he kept the towel tight around his injured hand as he wedged his semi-automatic down the back of his jeans. Then got a T-shirt, his leather jacket, keys and cell phone and left his room. As luck would have it, he bumped into Madoc on his way through the den.
“Hey, how's Kit doing?”
Madeleine eyed his bloodstained towel suspiciously. Folding her arms across her chest, her gentle, cinnamon gaze changed to one full of curiosity.
“Physically, she'll be fine with some rest, but emotionally it's hard to say. Everyone copes with trauma in a different way.” She reached out and gingerly lifted the edge of the soaked cloth and took a peek underneath. “Speaking of trauma, I'd hate to see the wall you picked a fight with.” She spun around toward the Med room. “Come on,” she said, flicking her head back over her shoulder, “before those splinters end up embedded under your skin for good.”
Cade thrust his uninjured hand through his damp hair, his long strides already bringing him in line with her.
“What's going on with you and this woman, Cade?”
He shrugged, uncommitted. “Nothing.” At least not yet anyway.
One neat brow arched over her skeptical glare. “Sure looked like nothing when you and Gun almost shred each other over her.”
His jaw ticked. “We both know he's a dick who had it coming.” The statement held a brittle edge as it left his lips. Dismissing the subject swiftly, his thoughts spring boarded back to Kit. “Is she up to visitors?”
Madeleine nodded. “I said I'd check on her again this week, but if you'd like to do it and let me know how she is?” A smile curved her delicate mouth. “I need to know if perhaps Lakota should see her, check how she's doing emotionally. To be honest, I think there may be something more she's not telling me.”
“You bet.” His concern was deep, but his grin was wide with satisfaction having a legitimate excuse to see Kit. He returned his attention back to his busted knuckles. “This won't take long―right?”
After an agonizing one hour thirty-four minutes and fifty-nine seconds later, Cade stopped looking at the clock. Madoc had painstakingly removed all the razor sharp splinters of tile. Due to the speed in which he healed, his skin had to be re-opened a dozen times. Cade kissed her on the cheek, pleased his hand was almost good as new as he flexed and clenched it for good measure.
Running through the corridor, he left the main building and entered the large underground garage that housed the packs' vehicles. Starting his Harley he waited for the wide metal door to lift and ease upward. Once closed again the den was entirely camouflaged. He reached the mile-long dirt track exiting the enclosure and the forest and turned onto the coastal road leading into Shadow Creek.
Fifteen minutes later he nodded an acknowledgment toward the two cops parked in a black sedan at the bottom of the long driveway to Kit's home. Then continued up to the house and through the large iron gates that were open wide.
It was a typical plantation style home. A large wraparound porch complete with a swing seat and blue shutters on every window, those on the ground floor were partly open, the curtains billowing in the breeze.
The garden to the front was a neat lawn. The rear of the property was a haven of flowers and blossom trees which had carpeted the grass below with hues of white and dusky pink petals. Kit and her aunt kept the place looking lovely with the help of a handyman that lived in a small, painted timber-framed cottage in the grounds. The guy was big, easily Cade's height with a blond buzz cut and a goatee.
Naturally, he checked the guy out and came up with a whole load of zilch. Aden Black had lived in a small beachfront home about a mile away before moving into the keeper's cottage on the fringe of the property. Nothing in the database other than his name and address. Black was squeaky clean, a little too much so for Cade's liking.
After parking his bike a few feet away from the bottom steps of the house, he shut off the engine and waited. Contemplating, about what, he didn't quite know. Thirty minutes had passed before he plucked up the courage to knock on Kit McCoy's door.
After she'd spent the morning catching up on the laundry, an hour of Wii Fit and general chores, Kit treated herself to a long hot shower. And even though it was a little late in the afternoon, she applied a touch of eyeliner and mascara and put on a cool, cotton sun dress. The afternoon had grown close and humid, suggesting a storm was on the way. She drank a strong black coffee, needing the caffeine to nudge her back to the land of the living. Finally, she felt a little more like herself again. The past few days of taking painkillers had eased the inflammation of her throat. Madeleine had been back to check on her and Kit liked her, they seemed to get on well, so she was looking forward to her next visit.
She'd shrugged off the unsettling dream that had spooked her. It was just a weird, trauma induced dream. Just as unreal as shifters and other things that belonged in teen movies and the books she loved to read.
Kit shook her head and quickly dismissed the images of Cade and his wolf being one, living thing. Come on, seriously? Kit muttered, finding the whole idea incredulous. So when she heard the gut
sy roar of Cade Grayson's motorcycle arrive at the front of the house, she shouldn't have felt any apprehension―right?
Wrong.
She padded across the honey pine boards and fingered the damask curtain aside. Oh, God. Her stomach did a back flip when she saw him straddling his bike in a sexy, masculine way that pronounced strong muscular thighs beneath his jeans. His face, oh heavens above, his mouth, those molten streaked eyes made her core bloom with heat.
She wanted him.
The minutes passed by in an agonizing crawl. While chewing her bottom lip, she wondered why he was still just sitting on his Harley staring up at the house. His intelligent eyes had already located her hiding position behind the curtain. Shit. She deliberated whether to open the door or wait a little longer...
After what seemed like an hour rather than the few minutes it had surely been, Kit jerked as he spontaneously got off the deadly, metal machine between his legs, and slipped free from his leather jacket. The sight of him made melt a little inside. With a tight clutch of the curtain and her gaze steady, she watched as he threw the discarded garment across the seat, before taking long, graceful strides across the lawn and up the front porch steps. Her heart pounded in her mouth to the same rhythm as his knuckles rapping the door.
“Hello, Kit.”
The sudden flare of lust that struck her with his closeness sent a fever roaring through her body. The warm honey tone of his voice trickled over her and clung to every inch of her flesh. Unable to shake the heat it sent sweeping across her skin, she cleared her throat and tried not to think about anything sexual. It proved mighty arduous with him standing so close, so very close, but she managed to say his name at least. “Cade.”
The sun was barely visible in the cloudy, dappled sky behind him. Shadow darkened his features and made him look both gorgeous and untamed as he stood facing her on the porch. She hung onto the screened door using it as support to keep her upright. God, he was so tall and big, everything about him screamed dangerous, deadly, and tempting.
Every. Single. Mouth watering inch of him pulled her in. His eyes, his lips, his body and his smell, like fresh spring air, mint, and earth.
Cade couldn't take his eyes off Kit. She was a vision in the fading sun wearing a simple sky blue, cotton dress, a pearl button undone at the neckline revealing a hint of her small breasts. An ache flared in his groin. Desire sparking anew as he drank in her petite frame. Her slender waist and her slim, athletic legs. Damn, he thought as his eyes skimmed her ankles and settled on the prettiest feet he'd ever seen. He smiled, marveling at the shimmering fancy polish on her nails.
Kit put one foot behind the other self-consciously, wondering whether he had a dislike for feet or a foot fetish. Either way, she felt the heat from his gaze like a physical thing making her skin buzz. An invisible hum weaving between them and making her flesh goose-bump all over.
Cade's eyes lifted and caught the dazzling gleam of her cap of blonde hair, like the finest golden silk. He wanted to slip his hand through and have it tangle around his fingers. Her gentle, floral fragrance hung in the air, laced with her sweet musk in silent calling. His visceral reaction was hard to control, the automatic response between his legs knew no restraint around this woman. When he met her gaze, sweet Jesus, they did something to him. Those electric, blue eyes just reached deep inside of him and touched his soul.
He started to pace. Tried to shrug off the hard on that wanted out of his pants and avoid the temptation to close the gap between them and pull her into his arms. After a few short heartbeats, he came to a stand in front of her again and he threw his hands on his hips.
“Madoc asked me to drop by and check on you.”
Kit's slender brows rose as though in surprise. “Is that the only reason you're here?” The question slipped out before she could stop it, her eyes dropped quickly as she silently cursed herself.
Cade's lips hitched up a little in a sinful smile. “No. It's not the only reason,” he admitted freely.
Kit's heart skipped a beat, pleased he had come for other reasons. Hopefully more personal reasons besides doctor's orders. Kit knew she shouldn't be alone with him. Knew without a doubt she would be like putty in his strong hands. Weak, pliable, easily manipulated. Her eyes latched onto the silver flames that burned in his. Intelligence and heat blazed in their depths and Kit saw at once she hadn't a chance in hell of resisting him.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, transfixed by the metallic sparklers that splintered outward in his eyes and made them burn even brighter.
He moved closer until there was nothing but a breath of air between them. A hot, smoldering electricity danced off his skin and she gasped as his tall, muscular body towered over her. Kit couldn't see anything but a sexy, sultry smile that had her breathing fast and shallow.
“No,” he replied, his voice all gravel. Lowering his head until his cheek brushed across hers and his warm breath was at her ear he said, “I'm starving.” He was famished, but not for food.
Kit felt as though her skin was on fire. How many times had she dreamed of being in the same room, the same bed as Cade Grayson? And here he was standing in her kitchen, filling it with his manly smell and his huge presence. Watching her make chicken and salad on rye, with mayonnaise and all the trimmings. She could feel his eyes leisurely strolling up and down her body and it should have made her nervous, self-conscious even. But it didn't. It made her feel wickedly hot and damp and her skin highly sensitive.
Moving over to the shelves, Kit went up on her toes to get two plates. Her breath snagged in her throat as Cade came in close behind and rubbed up against her back. “Here, let me get those.” One strong arm came around her and encased her in the arc of his body while the other brushed against her bare arm sending a shock wave through her veins.
“Thank you,” she muttered, sensing that same heat, that same electricity flaming between them.
His lips brushed her cheek with the faintest touch. “You're very welcome.” Like a butterfly's wing, it was quick and fleeting, gone far too soon. The heat of his body drifted away as he took their meals and placed them on the table in the middle of the room.
Kit sat watching with interest as he consumed his sandwich with a surprising gracefulness. He paused to wipe his mouth with the napkin she'd given him and studied her with curious eyes for a moment.
“Eat up Kit, you need your strength,” he prompted with a caring smile.
She nodded, before taking a bite. “So...” she said, after swallowing, “… you're a soldier?”
His gaze shadowed over as he took another bite. A few silent minutes later he finished his meal and popped off the cap of his beer with his teeth. Then after drinking down half of it in one, long swig, he leaned back into the chair, folding his arms across his broad chest he let out a deep sigh.
“Yeah, kind of.” He shrugged, waiting for the next question. He didn't have to wait long.
“So, what do you do exactly?” Kit took another bite of her sandwich, well aware of his lingering gaze.
Dragging his eyes away from the erotic movement of her throat as she ate her meal, he cocked his head to one side. “Oh, you know, this and that.” He remained elusive about his job, he didn't need to tell her he was a supernatural trained soldier. Who not only went after killers, but killed and disposed of those killers along with other vermin on a regular basis. But he could clearly see she wasn't satisfied with his ambiguous answer. “Look, there are some things I just can't tell you. Besides, I don't think you'd believe me anyway.”
Leaving the rest of her sandwich, Kit took a good gulp of her elderflower cordial. Leaning forward, she cupped her chin in the palm of her hand and fixed her gaze on him. “Why would you think that?”
He laughed, a deep rumble from his chest. A shake of his head sent his hair sweeping down onto his forehead, the scar on his face creasing with his smile. God, he had the sexiest smile, she mused, catching another glimpse of his rather sharp teeth.
Hmm, irony, he th
ought wryly. “Ah, let's just say I have a hunch you couldn't handle the truth,” he goaded, knowing just how well his revelations had gone down in their recent dream.
Kit's gaze narrowed. What did he mean by that? The challenge rose up like a wave inside of her. Did he think she was weak? Too immature? She straightened her spine, stuck out her chin with an edge of her inherited defiance.
“Really?” she hedged. “Bring it on, Cade Grayson.”
He leaned forward so his face was just a fraction from her own. Kit didn't flinch, despite the sexual crackle in the air that intensified and grew thick between them once more. She just watched as his pupils dilated and almost saturated the silver granite of his irises.
Cade brought a hand to her face and traced her jawline with his fingertip. “You sure you want to know, Kit?” His voice dipped lower, but she didn't miss the hint of playfulness below its challenge. He felt tortured. He wanted to tell her the truth and needed her to believe him, rather than letting her believe the lies he could so easily spin for her. If she couldn't accept him―the real him―then she would never be his. He would forever be without his mate. And that was a crushing thought.
She held her position, mesmerized, captivated, feeling her body tremble inside. “After what I've been through,” she said, trying to mask the quiver in her voice as horrific memories pricked her thoughts. “Trust me, there's nothing you can say I couldn't possibly handle.”
A silence swelled between them like a storm cloud for what seemed like an immeasurable amount of time. Finally, he speared her gaze with a look that was impossible to escape.
He decided it was the truth or nothing.