Her wolf blazed a myriad of thoughts and images through her mind, but only one word came through crystal clear.
Mate.
She’d leapt around, her gaze drawn to only one wolf—Marcus.
Her heart thrummed fast as she recalled the image of his wolf. He was beautiful. In that moment she’d seen why the Council had chosen him as enforcer.
Large and hulking, his wolf almost resembled a bear. Even his fur was intimidating, spiked brown with blond tips, reminding her of sharpened spikes.
Shaking her head clear she came back to the present.
Marcus was lethal in more than just his skills as an enforcer.
She refused to let her destiny be determined by a chemical impulse to mate and his presence threatened the hard won control that she’d spent years honing.
The unfairness of it all galled her. The decision of who she spent the rest of her life with should be made by her. Not her overzealous wolf and definitely not some hormonal urge.
Each day her irritation grew as it became more difficult not to succumb to the urge of crawling onto the man’s lap and sating the unending hunger that had been building since they first met.
All of that didn’t matter now. For the next several days she was free from the worries that plagued her at home.
Taking a deep breath, she reached her arms overhead, arched her back and inhaled the balmy salted air.
She could almost hear her muscles sigh, but despite the relaxation attempting to spread through her limbs, her body tingled with a tension she knew settled too deep.
Her heat cycle was starting, and there was nothing she could do to relieve the discomfort.
Well almost nothing.
Dropping her hands back down to her sides, she swept her gaze across the small beach. It wasn’t crowded but had a fair number of sunbathers and Zen cravers. And most importantly it had men looking for the same thing she was—a little fun, forgetfulness and zero strings.
Although heat pooled to her center, her stomach rolled in apprehension.
In the past she’d had no problems with finding a willing male to sleep with when she was in heat. She enjoyed sex, and although each year her parents hoped she would chose a permanent mate, no man in or outside of her pack inspired much feeling or devotion. At least not enough for her to be shackled to for life.
But last year, because of The-Wolf-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, no one appealed to her.
Instead of rolling around for several hours with a well-endowed chosen playmate, she’d remained locked in her home for days with her vibrator and a healthy supply of batteries.
She had no intentions of repeating the experience. This week, she planned on proving to both her body and wolf, that Marcus wasn’t the only man capable of making her hot.
Her gaze combed the area, looking for a good candidate.
One particular man caught her eye.
He’d been swimming for the last hour, his caramel arms cutting through the water in languid strokes. But now he rose out of the surf resembling a naughty sea nymph, his strong legs leading up to deep blue board shorts. Dry, she guessed the swimming trunks were perfectly modest—but wet they molded to his thick muscled thighs and cupped his cock in a way that left very little to the imagination. And since Georgia’s imagination was better than the average wolf’s she bit back a groan and clenched her thighs tight.
Yum.
Pushing her sunglasses up to her hair, she licked her lips as her gaze traced the diamond bright droplets of water running down his hard chest. They sluiced down his body, aided by the tight ridges of muscles along his abdomen, tunneling down to what looked like one hell of a stocking stuffer.
Merry Christmas to me.
Yes, an island getaway was proving to be the perfect holiday treat.
Her gaze meandered back up his chest and after making a brief note of thick smooth lips and tempting dimples, she made eye contact with her merman come to life.
His eyes gleamed with interest and her lips turned up in her best come-hither smile. He took a step forward and then froze, his gaze focusing on something just over her left shoulder. Shaking his head he turned and continued walking down the beach.
What the hell!
She frowned at his retreating back. Admittedly she was no super model but, she’d never had a problem with luring men her way.
A long shadow fell over her and it was her turn to freeze. Despite blocking out the sun, a heated scorch rippled down her body as the approaching shadow crept down her body. Her nipples pebbled to thick points, her pussy clenched and a slow growl worked its way up her throat.
Only one thing made her body react this way and she’d deliberately left it back in Golden Valley.
“Hello Gigi. Miss me?”
Three
This is not happening!
“Don’t call me Gigi,” she said, the words pushing passed her stiffened lips.
Georgia squeezed her eyes shut and counted to ten.
One…Two…Three…
“It was rude of you to leave without saying goodbye.”
Her knees locked as his husky voice grew closer. She bit back a frustrated whimper as soft fabric brushed her bare arm.
Four…Five…
“What? No hello Marcus? How are you doing Marcus?”
Six…Seven
“How was your flight Marcus?”
Eight…Nine…
“No I’ve missed you Marcus—”
Ten!
Her eyes shot open before her gaze zeroed in on his smug face.
“How about, would you like to die Marcus,” she asked as sweetly as she could, her jaw stiff in anger.
He stood at her side towering over her and she couldn’t prevent another traitorous shiver from rolling down her body.
She refused to move from her position, not wanting to give him any impression that his presence or stance intimidated her at all. Adopting an air of nonchalance she flicked her hair over her shoulder and leaned back onto the curved beach chair.
There was no denying that Marcus Legrand screamed “lick me” from the top of his stubborn as granite head to the bottoms of his always impeccably shined shoes.
Her tongue slipped out to smooth over her suddenly dry lips as her gaze took him all in.
His usually dirty blond hair tousled in the wind as his dark, midnight blue eyes peered down at her.
She hated his eyes as much as she loved them. They always seemed to be digging directly into her soul and she loathed him for that.
Reaching up she shoved her glasses back onto her face.
A neatly trimmed beard curved around plump sensuous lips, that when speaking contained a faint European accent that she could never quite place. But the way he said her name always made her panties wet and nipples tight.
Bastard.
Dressed in dark slacks and slate grey dress shirt, he looked more ready for a business meeting than a walk on the beach. Although mentally scoffing at his attire she couldn’t ignore how well his broad chest stretched the fine fabric of his shirt, or how the precise creases of his pants, emphasized his strong thighs and the teasing bulge at the juncture of them.
“Is that all you have to say after I’ve come all this way to surprise you?”
“Surprises are meant to be enjoyed.”
“Oh but I’m enjoying myself immensely.”
His gaze swept her body in one smooth, hot stroke and she clenched her fists in an attempt not to reach out and return the favor.
Either with a caress of her own or slap to the face. She wasn’t really sure.
Yes you are.
Ignoring her slutty inner voice she firmed her lips. Seducing a stranger to relieve her heat was a logical necessity. Engaging in any kind of flirtation with Marcus was just plain lunacy.
“Get off my island Marcus.”
“Does your pack have larger holdings than they’ve reported to the Council? I don’t believe this island is recorded.”
“I’m playing by sc
hool yard rules. I was here first so get lost.”
“I have every intention of leaving as soon as possible.”
“Oh please don’t let me stop you.”
His beautiful lips tipped up at the corners, and one perfect dimple dented his right cheek.
“I knew you’d be understanding. The plane leaves sharply at six tomorrow morning. I’ll see you then.”
“I’ll cheerfully be waving good-bye.”
“To the island.”
“To you.”
“I’m sure you’d like to, but it will rather hard while sitting next to me.”
“I’m not leaving Legrand.”
“Sorry to disappoint you Gigi, but you’re expected at home.”
“They can celebrate one Christmas without me.”
“Your parents seem to disagree.”
“Since when did you switch from pit bull to messenger boy?”
“Since your father decided to name a new alpha.”
“What!”
She jerked her sun glasses from her face and snapped up in her chair.
“Darius has decided it’s time to name his chosen successor. He plans on making his announcement tomorrow evening at the Christmas Ball.”
“That’s not possible. I don’t believe you,” she whispered her mind reeling in shock.
Her father was still young. He had years left to appoint the next ruler of the pack. Why would he choose now?
“My mother—”
“Is fine.”
He reached into his front pocket, pulled out a crisp folded note and handed it to her.
She took it from him with trembling hands.
Flipping it open she snorted at the two short lines written in her mother’s distinct scrolling handwriting.
Merry Christmas Baby-Doll, now get your ass home. Your Daddy’s gone crazy.
Clutching the thick paper in her hand she shook head. Naming an alpha. Her brain struggled to make sense of the news.
Whoever, her father chose wasn’t guaranteed the title. It only meant that he named the one he considered strongest of their pack—the one most capable of leading them when he stepped aside. His successor would have to survive any challenges from other pack members, but the defeat of a named alpha rarely happened.
But who had he chosen?
Her father discussed almost everything with her, always keeping her informed and involved in pack business. She quickly pulled up a mental list every possible candidate and dismissed each one. None of them were fit to take her father’s place.
This sudden decision only increased her suspicions regarding Marcus and his extended stay in Golden Valley. Had he been volleying for this position all along? Did that explain his relentless pursuit of her as well?
Looking back up at him she studied his face. As usual his expression was unreadable.
“It will take almost a full day’s travel to get there on time.”
“I have a plane chartered for the morning.”
“A private plane? Have you forgotten to declare a few things as well?”
“The Council pays very well.”
“Remind me to increase your rent.”
She looked down at the note crumpled in her hand.
“Why is he doing this?”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“I was only told to bring you back home.”
“You’re not exactly known for taking orders.”
“This request coincided with something I already planned on doing.”
“Fancied a vacation?”
“A hunt.”
She lifted an eyebrow at his statement.
So arrogant.
“The island isn’t known for game.”
“And you’re not known for you lack of intelligence. How long do you want to play at this Gigi?”
She bristled at his tone. It didn’t matter that he was right. As long as she felt like avoiding him, she would.
“How did you even find me anyway?”
She’d gone through painstaking measures to avoid detection, booking her ticket at the very last minute and leaving only a handwritten message to her parents stating she’d be back before New Year’s Day. When she’d arrived in the Caribbean, she island hoped using several ferries before stopping at Jost Van Dyke, using cash the entire journey.
“You made a mistake.”
“I never make mistakes when it comes to security and ensuring privacy.”
“In this case you made a big one.”
“What’s that?”
“You ran from a wolf.”
Her jaw dropped open as he turned and walked away.
She watched his sure striding steps, the muscles in his ass flexing and bunching in a taunting salute.
Snapping her mouth shut, she stood. The heat from the sunbaked sand grounded her—giving her a much needed link to earth as she struggled not to leap after Marcus and tackle the egotistical jackass to the ground.
Her vacation may have been cut short but she had every intention of fulfilling her quest.
Before she stepped on that plane tomorrow, she would have proven to both Marcus and herself, that he had no power or control over her.
Four
Georgia tilted her head back and let the cool, smooth shot of rum slide down her throat. Slamming the empty glass on the table she grinned at the sexy tourist sitting across from her.
He was handsome in an Abercrombie and Fitch kind of way. His thick, dark brown hair, a little longer than she usually liked, fell over his forehead in a sexy mess.
Scrunching her nose she tried to recall his name. She was sure it began with a J, something quintessentially American, like John or James or Joe.
Shrugging her shoulders, she shook her head and leaned forward. It didn’t matter, his name wasn’t exactly a necessity considering her plans for him. The cruise ship he sailed on would be leaving the port just before dawn, giving her only a few hours to get what she needed from him.
Her plan was simple.
If she was going to survive the next few days without jumping Marcus’s pussy clenching inducing bones, then she needed to make sure she got her heat under control. And the best way to do that was for her to find another set of bones to nibble on. And Mr. J-Man was the perfect candidate.
Marcus may have ruined most of her plans for the holidays but she still intended on proving at least one thing to herself—despite her attraction to him, she could still be with other men.
Roxy’s, the large, open aired beach bar was packed full of vacationers either drinking or gyrating on the dance floor to the heavy reggae beats played by the house band.
It wasn’t her typical scene, but she was there in need for a little distraction and satisfaction.
If her subconscious tried to tell her otherwise, she moved it aside with a determined shove.
Her gaze slid over her mystery man’s features. Despite his disheveled appearance he had the long vowel emitting drawl distinct to America’s upper east coast. From first glance she’d pegged him as a well off yuppie, looking to have some casual fun. Since she was of similar mind she’d had no qualms with pulling him away from his group of friends.
He had a broad chest, not overly muscular, but definitely fit. She reached over and traced a finger nail along his forearms. They were well defined, with bulges and sinew that showed the life of an active man.
Tennis or racquetball most likely, hmmmm. That meant he must have a decent store of stamina stocked in his tall frame.
She loved a man with strong arms. Growing up with a den of wolves, made you appreciate all of the things a body could do, so idleness in men never really appealed to her.
And since she was in the mood for some vigorous exercise of her own—this J man would definitely fit the bill.
Licking her lips, she leaned in closer, not caring when the strap of her dress slipped down her shoulder.
“Do you want to dance?”
His gaze dipped to the cleavage exposed by the thin white m
aterial of her dress and gave a jerking nod. She gave a mental snort.
Men were always so easy.
To be fair, the dress was more than a tease. It was short, with a skirt that flirted around the middle of her thighs when she walked. The fabric was practically sheer against her skin, and she’d deliberately omitted a bra beneath the peasant style top, that fit close along her torso and cinched in at the waist.
When she’d first seen the dress in one of the local tourist shops, it reminded her of a naughty angel, and purchased it on the spot. To her way of thinking vacations were made for being a little wicked.
After her run-in with Marcus, she was determined to take the edge off her heat, and had dressed to entice.
She stood and led the man out onto the dance floor, making sure to let her hips undulate in an exaggerated sway. He didn’t need any further invitation. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he turned her to him, bringing her body tight against his.
Her nipples tightened in awareness as he titled her pelvis up, nudged her thighs apart with one leg and smoothed his strong hands down to the small of her back.
Perfect.
Her body craved this—a simple matter of biology and chemical reactions in the brain. She didn’t need to be around Marcus to be aroused.
A sigh of relief escaped her as they began to move to the music and he encouraged her to ride his thigh. He dipped his head and began to place sucking kisses at her neck. Her pussy clenched at every teasing bite, and she groaned as the song’s tempo increased.
She reached behind her and redirected one of his hands beneath her skirt. It clenched one bare cheek of her ass exposed by her thong as she moved against him uncaring that he could feel the heat of her against his thigh.
“Fuck.”
Not yet but soon.
She ignored his heated whisper and slung her arms around his neck, pulling him in closer, reveling in the feel of his hard erection against her belly.
“Let’s get out of here.”
She said the words in a low murmur into his ear. She’d barely completed the sentence, before he was nodding in agreement and leading her off of the dance floor onto the cool sandy steps of the exit.
Midnight Mistletoe Page 2