by Julie Kenner
She wanted him. Wanted this to be real. Wanted him there, holding her.
Holding her…
This was no dream!
Cate’s eyes flew open, her heart pounding, her breath in erratic gasps. She scrambled backwards, out of his arms, the sheet clutched to her chest as she rolled sideways toward the night table and her gun. She held it out, aimed at his heart. He didn’t seem to care.
“You.”
A slow, sensual smile eased across that perfect face. “Me.” He was already sitting on the edge of the bed, and now he inched toward her.
She waved the gun, just slightly. “I don’t think so.”
He held up a hand, a silent surrender. “Whatever you say, detective. But I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
Insightful little bastard. She kept the gun level. “How’d you get in?”
That damn cocky smile broadened. “The door.”
“It was locked.”
“Do you really think a lock could keep me away from you?”
“I—” She closed her mouth. Her head wanted to argue with him, to scream, to yell at him to get out of her house and to leave her alone. Her body, though…
Her body was terrified that he would leave.
She tried again. “I—”
He reached out, and she remained perfectly still, her own gaze locked on his haunted eyes. His hand closed over hers, caressed her skin, then gently tugged the gun away. She trembled, just a little, and she felt a single tear roll down her cheek as, finally, she succumbed to this man.
Foolish, perhaps. Dangerous, maybe. But right then this was what she needed. He was what she needed.
With the pad of his thumb, he brushed the tear away. “Darling Cate, don’t cry. We’ve found each other now. My life. My mate.”
His fingertips stroked her lips, and she leaned forward, opening her mouth to him, her entire body filled with need. She was charged up, vibrating with passion. Lust and want filled her veins and pounded through her soul.
She no longer questioned why; she was beyond caring. She’d been reduced to a primal being, driven only by instinct and need.
She reached out, letting the sheet drop away, revealing the simple, threadbare T-shirt that she’d worn to bed. Her hand snaked around his neck, urging him closer. At the same time, she opened her mouth, and his finger slipped in. She pressed her lips around the digit, then moved back and forth, slowly and methodically, building a sensual rhythm, a promise of things to come.
She kept her eyes closed, but his mouth on her breast came as no surprise, and she arched her back, still sucking on him as he tugged and nipped at her nipple, teasing it through the thin material of her T-shirt.
He slipped his hand from her mouth, and she moaned, wanting the taste of him. His hands cupped her breasts, kneading and stroking, the pads of his thumbs flicking over her nipples.
“Cate,” he growled, “I need you.” And he clutched the T-shirt and pulled it over her head, tossing it casually aside. Though it was summer and she had no air-conditioning, the air in the sultry, sticky room felt cool against her over-heated skin.
She leaned forward, wanting his lips against her own, but he parried, tugging her down until she was lying on the bed, naked except for a tiny pair of bikini panties. His actions were both rough and gentle, and everything about him, about this wild coupling, turned her on. The panties were soaked, and all she could think was that she wanted more, would beg if she had to.
But she didn’t think she’d have to.
This was a dangerous encounter. The kind she was born for. The kind her mother had always warned her about. Rough and demanding. Hot and wild.
Love and caring and family were for other people, not for her, and with this man she intended to push the envelope.
With a boldness born of pure need, she slipped her hand inside her panties, then slid her own fingers over her hot, slick sex. Her fingertip found her clit, and she danced lightly around it, not willing to go there, not yet.
When she came tonight, it would be with Luc inside her. And, she hoped, again and again and again.
His hand cupped her over the satin panties, stilling her hand. “I think that’s mine.”
The need in his voice came from a place much different than pure lust and sexual desire. But she couldn’t think about that. Right then all she could think about was his cock inside her.
His fingers closed over the panties, and then he tugged them. She gasped as the flimsy material ripped, leaving her completely exposed to him.
His fingers took over where she had left off, and she slipped her own hands under his shirt, her nails raking against his skin.
“Off,” she said.
He did as she asked, then tossed the shirt into the corner. She tugged at the waistband of his pants, desperate to free him.
He complied without question, tugging off his jeans and shoes.
They were apart for less than a minute, but during that short bit of time, her mind seemed to clear, and the reality of what she was doing hit her full force.
She knew nothing about this man. Nothing other than his name.
And yet, when he climbed back onto the bed and pulled her roughly into his arms, she knew that there was no place else for her. No one else for her.
He rolled her over, settling her astride his stomach, her thighs on either side of his waist.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
She leaned forward, wanting his kiss, to taste his mouth, but he eased her back up, one hand slipping between their bodies to stroke her clit, the other reaching up to caress her breast.
She trembled against the onslaught of sensations coursing through her blood.
Her body was calling to him, building toward climax, and she wanted it. Oh, how she wanted it.
A tiny voice in her head told her to pull away, to roll off, to run. She was better than this. You shouldn’t, Cate. Love. You deserve love.
Shouldn’t? The word seemed foolish and Pollyanna, especially with his fingers inside her, stroking and tugging and demanding. He’d fired every nerve ending in her body, and still she wanted more. She wanted it.
She wanted him.
Shouldn’t was a far cry from wouldn’t. And she knew for damn sure that she would.
She’d spread herself wide open for this man. Even more, she’d be devastated if he walked away now.
No, she thought. Shouldn’t was for fools and women without the balls to live the life they were born to. Tonight of all nights, she was grateful she knew who she was. Because with Luc, she wanted to be bad. Very, very bad.
With what she hoped was casual aplomb, she slid off him, rolling onto her back and spreading her legs wide. A demand as much as an invitation. “Take me. Take me now.”
Fire flickered in those golden eyes, and with an almost desperate freneticism, he straddled her. He groped her, his hands claiming her, blazing a heated path for his mouth. He reached the apex of her thighs and spread her legs, so wide her muscles ached, and she bent her knees up, giving herself to him.
He laved her, the rough shadow of his beard scraping against her inner thigh. His tongue danced and dipped, tasting and tempting, pulling her closer and closer to the precipice.
She reached down, her fingers twining through his short dark hair. She bucked against his mouth, wanting him fully, needing him completely.
But he backed away, and she cried out in frustration as he trailed kisses down her inner thigh, then pushed himself up until his face was over her, the hard tip of his cock pressing at the apex of her thighs, so close to everything she wanted and yet a million miles away.
His eyes burned into her, and she slid her hands down until she cupped his rear. She pressed, silently urging him inside her.
“Luc. Please.”
“Please what?”
“Inside me.” She arched up, lifting her head to brush her lips against his.
He took his time, turning to tease her ear with the tip of his tongue. The spot was
sensitive, and she gasped, relaxing back down onto the bed and losing herself to his ministrations. Go with it, Cate. Let him take you there.
As his tongue worked one kind of magic, his hand worked another, slipping down her belly, the pressure not so much a caress as a demand.
His finger slipped inside her easily, and her body tightened around him, pulling him in, demanding. Insistent.
Desperate.
“Now, Cate,” he said, his voice raspy with need. Roughly, he spread her thighs, positioned himself over her as he slipped on a condom. She was wide and ready and exposed, and practically tingling with need.
“The time is now,” he said, as the tip of his cock pressed insistently against her wet folds. “I must have you now before all is lost.”
And then he entered her, hard and demanding. He filled her completely, his desperate thrusts everything she’d wanted since the first time she’d seen him in the ballroom.
Why, then, when her body was filled by this man, did she feel so damned empty?
MINDLESS, HE THRUST, harder and harder, fighting to come. Fighting to stave off the change that, inexplicably, threatened once again.
He could feel it. Crawling under his skin. Threatening to burst through. Threatening to consume him. To consume Cate.
No. She was the one. She could ward off the change. He was certain of it. He’d simply waited too long and now he was on the cusp as he rammed himself into her, need and fear driving his thrusts.
A haze engulfed him, and the fear grew to terror. The change. Oh, Lord, no. He couldn’t be wrong. If he changed…with her in his bed…No, no, he couldn’t harm her. Not Cate. Not this woman—
And then the world exploded, and Luc with it.
WHEN HIS SENSES RETURNED he was curled up naked next to her. He sat bolt upright, pulling the sheet back to expose her. Her breasts, belly, thighs.
Unmauled.
Her eyes widened, still heavy with sleep. “Ready for round two?”
He collapsed back against the pillows, felt a crush of tears fill his head and fought them back.
He hadn’t changed. The sensations had been so similar, yet so different. He’d only come. He’d exploded in passion inside this woman and together they’d held the change at bay.
He’d been right. She really was his. His Cate. His mate.
CHAPTER FIVE
SHE WOKE IN HIS ARMS, then snuggled closer. His arm tightened around her and he kissed her forehead.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Ravenous.”
He slid out of bed, his hand out to her. She took it, smiling, then followed him into her kitchen. He pointed toward the tiny breakfast table, and she quirked a brow, amused at the thought that the man who’d been in her bed was now in her kitchen. She didn’t protest, however. Just sat down and wondered what he thought he’d be able to find that would even remotely resemble food.
Amazingly enough, he managed just fine, somehow turning five eggs, a frozen link of sausage, and a few other odds and ends into a brilliant omelet.
“I’m impressed,” she said as he slid the plate in front of her.
“Good.” He used his own fork to stab a bite. “That was my intention.”
They ate together in comfortable silence until Cate started to get fidgety. He was watching her, his eyes intense, and she felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “What?”
“You deserve a better meal.”
“In that case, I need to go grocery shopping more often.”
He ignored the flippant comment. “Tonight,” he said.
“Tonight?”
A hint of a smile graced his lips. “May I have the honor of taking you to dinner?”
“I…” She’d wanted to review the case files tonight. Technically, though, she was on her days off. And, so help her, she did want this man.
She drew in a breath, gathering courage. “Yes,” she said. Then, more firmly, “Yes.”
She’d succumbed to her heart, and it felt good. Even so, when he left, promising to come back for her at eight, she was grateful. She needed some time alone. Some time to think.
She knew nothing of this man. Nothing other than a burning intensity shining deep in his eyes, and a desperate, almost violent need to possess her. To fill her. To consume her.
To mate.
She shivered, her body tingling from the memory of his hands on her, his mouth tasting her, his body filling her.
Oh, dear Lord, she was wet again. Wet and needy and frantically wishing that he hadn’t left after all.
Frustrated, she headed for the bathroom, then turned the shower full-strength on cold water. Still naked, she stepped under the spray, fighting a scream as the icy blast of frigid water pummeled her.
When she’d finally adjusted to the temperature, she pressed her palms against the tiled shower stall. Her head hung, letting the spray pound the back of her neck.
A thousand recriminations danced through her head, but she shoved them all away, a single question rising to the surface—who was he?
Luc Agassou, yes. She knew that. Prominent, apparently, if Armand’s deferential manner was any clue. If she’d been smart, she would have researched him on the Internet, not Kimberly’s bottle.
But she hadn’t, and now Luc remained a mystery. And all she knew for certain was that she craved the man.
CATE GLANCED at the clock above her sofa. Just past two. She’d spent much of her first day off researching Luc Agassou. She’d called in a favor to one of the gals at Division and got her to expedite a search. No criminal record. Not even a traffic ticket.
And her own Internet search confirmed what she’d learned. The man was a pillar of the community, although he’d left New Orleans a few years ago, only to return in the past week. That explained why she’d never heard of him. According to her research, he was the son of internationally known geneticists, and had inherited their fortune when they’d been killed in a car crash almost ten years ago.
She’d felt a stab of sadness for the man who’d lost his family. He’d grown into a well-known philanthropist, donating a huge percentage of his net worth to hand-picked causes. She scrolled through the list—several youth services groups, animal rights funds, literacy programs, the Audubon Zoo, the—
She stopped scrolling, then leaned in closer to the screen, suddenly realizing why his name had seemed so familiar to her. Luc Agassou had sponsored the panther habitat. He’d donated Midnight, the panther that had escaped.
With a start, she sat up straighter, a ridiculous thought occurring to her. She’d been sitting in front of Midnight’s cage the first time she’d heard Luc’s voice.
Slowly, she let go of the mouse and rolled the chair backwards, her eyes never leaving the screen even though her pulse beat wildly, fear-induced adrenaline coursing through her veins.
Luc’s voice. She’d heard it. In her head. Right after she’d opened Kimberly’s present. She’d been holding the bottle and then, as she’d looked at Midnight, she’d heard it. Heard him.
I know, Caitlyn. I know that you are mine.
Mine. He’d said the same thing in bed.
Trembling, she hugged herself, bending over to stop the threat of tears.
He’d been in her head. He’d been in her bed.
And despite everything she told herself, he’d even started to sneak into her heart.
Dear Lord, who was he?
And even more important, how could she hide?
“THE LADY WILL BE MOVING IN with us.” Luc sat at the table, his fingertip idly tracing the rim of his iced-tea glass.
“She is amenable?” Martin looked up from where he’d been fussing nearby.
Luc avoided the butler’s curious glance. “She doesn’t know yet. I’m taking her out tonight, and I intend to be most persuasive.”
Martin didn’t even blink, simply moved closer, the crystal pitcher in his hand. “More tea?”
“Dammit, Martin, it’s the only way.”
“I don’t recall arguing, sir
.”
Luc stabbed at a piece of andouille sausage. “The hell you didn’t.”
“You seem put out, sir.”
“I’m not put out. I’m frustrated. It’s entirely different.”
“Whatever you say, sir.”
“I swear, Martin, if you call me sir once more…”
“I understand…Luc.”
Luc pushed back from the table and tossed his napkin on the chair. “I’m out of here.”
“May I ask where you’re going?”
“I’m going to go get the girl,” he said, feeling like a total prick even as he said the words. He headed to the garage. The girl deserved to be romanced and seduced, but he needed her hard and fast and right where he needed her when he needed her. Feral. Wild. Violent coupling to staving off even more violence.
The most vicious of circles, and he was perpetuating it.
His gut ate at him, a tinge of humanity coloring the instincts that drove him. He moved silently through the garage and slid behind the seat of his Porsche, then fired the engine. The garage door was still down, and for a moment, he just sat there.
So easy.
It would be so easy to end the suffering. His own. His victims’…
No.
He’d found his cure. He’d found Cate. He could have her. He could have life. And he’d give her as much romance as possible. And even if it wasn’t perfect, so what?
Luc had seen enough of this world to know that very little ever was.
He drew in a breath, then another, seeking strength. Then he lifted his hand to the visor and pressed the button to open the garage door. The mechanism kicked in, raising the door and letting the late-afternoon sun filter into the room.
Eerie shadows danced on the walls, but Luc ignored them. Shadows didn’t disturb him. He already knew where the monster lived.
With a violence born of frustration, he slammed the car into reverse and peeled out, leaving rubber scorch marks on the polished concrete and the pale asphalt driveway.
He maneuvered the street in a frenzy. The change didn’t tingle in his blood right now, but even so, he was desperate to see her.