Asanni

by J. F. Kaufmann

  Unexpectedly, the formal suit made him look younger because he wore it as naturally as his T-shirts and jeans. He looked like a model on a coffee break between two shoots—relaxed, smiling, and equally comfortable in just about any clothes they asked him to put on. He was elegant and nonchalant at the same time, and both to the extreme. Now I knew why I’d impulsively described him both as an eighteenth-century French nobleman and a cowboy.

  “I think it’s better if we go now,” he said quietly and came closer, in fact blocking my movement. “We’ll think later about how to deal with your dress and all the trouble that it’s causing.”

  Indeed. How are we going to deal with that?

  Jack’s hands ran along my body, moved to my upper back and froze. I could see his Adam’s apple running up and down several times and felt the echo of the tremor that shook his body.

  “Astrid...” Jack’s voice came out in a thick whisper. I could see how his eyes became darker and darker. “Honey, what are you wearing under that dress?”

  Now I’d really done it. I had to take us out of there, pronto.

  “Stockings and a few drops of Armani’s Code.” I’d shot my last erotic arrow, ready for the consequences.

  Jack closed his eyes for a moment and murmured something unintelligible. When he’d opened them again, they resumed their bright golden-amber hue. “You’ll pay for this, my love,” he said with a devilish smile in his eyes. “Next time you’ll wear this dress and those shoes just for me. You can skip the perfume altogether. And then I’ll have my sweet revenge. Now let’s go. You are sleeping at the Blakes’ tonight.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Jack

  OF COURSE she wouldn’t sleep at the Blakes’, but thanks to her little red ambush, I was in dire straits like never before. She’d almost brought my wolf up, which usually wasn’t a big deal because, after so many years of coexistence, I had my wild part under firm control. Usually.

  I had never had a bond-mate before, however, and that fact brought an unexpected challenge to the inner harmony of my spirits. My wolf part reacted fiercely to Astrid’s on a primal level, and that still wouldn’t be a problem if her wolf were under control. But her little beast roamed free and untamed, and although Astrid had been dealing with her quite impressively, there was a real danger that our wolf spirits could spontaneously decide to combine their efforts to push our human parts aside and do whatever they pleased.

  Not that anything terrible would happen. On the contrary, we would make passionate love and Astrid would realize that she’d never had a werewolf lover before. I, the happiest man alive, would love her like I’d never loved anybody before, with everything I was and everything I had. Her spirits would be linked, the pain would vanish, and there wouldn’t be black holes in her memory any more. Her wolf would still be strong but submitted to Astrid’s will. We both would be complete, two inseparable pieces of a singular entity. Soul mates, bond mates, yin and yang.

  But making love was precisely what we were not supposed to do. Not yet. She had to suffer at least for the next month or so, and I couldn’t protect her from the pain and horror of her uncontrollable change.

  She’d definitely made my day. A day? She’d made my whole decade with her little surprise. What was she thinking? I’d summoned all my strength not to jump her right there in the living room. I dragged her out of the house, pushed her into the car without glancing at her and drove to the Cosmopolitan Hotel, the venue of the exhibition. I was lightheaded, my breathing was raspy and my blood was boiling, rushing quite uncomfortably toward the central part of my body.

  I wanted to yell at her. Damn it, Astrid, look what you have done! You can’t go outside like that! I can’t let you go naked among other males. They’ll go nuts as soon as you step in!

  Through the silent screams of my heart and the cloud of her scent that made my head spin, I somehow came to my senses. Those were humans, my mind tried to soothe me, they couldn’t detect her scent.

  Thank heavens for small mercies.

  But I was still angry and mighty aroused. “You can’t wear a dress without anything under it and expect me to gently hold your hand all night,” I hissed through clenched teeth as I parked the car in front of the hotel.

  She sat quietly, curled deep into the seat, yet I could swear there was a glimpse of a mischievous smile in the corner of her eyes.

  I took a deep breath. “It’s a hell of a dress, Astrid. You almost gave me a heart attack.” I couldn’t stop thinking about her sweet, white nakedness wrapped up tightly in the red fabric.

  “I’m sorry, Jack,” she said in a voice that didn’t sound regretful at all. “It’s not unusual to wear nothing under such tight dresses. Believe me, the contour of a bra would be even more provoking. Perhaps.”

  Now that would give me peace of mind. My hand instinctively reached for her, but I stopped it in mid-gesture. I was afraid that my touch would kick off a dangerous chain reaction. She’d stir, releasing more of her scent, and initiate a physical contact that would embrace us into the warm tide of our bond. I wouldn’t be able to do anything except turn the car around, drive us home and take an active role in connecting her loose spirits.

  “Astrid, sweetie,” I said quietly. I pressed my back against the door in a futile attempt to expand the physical distance between us in such limited space. “Please, please do not wear anything like that once we come to Red Cliffs. You are my mate, but that doesn’t mean that you won’t be attractive to every eligible man there. You remember that technically, you’re still supposed to choose a mate among us. Don’t make the game too exciting. That would be more than some of them could handle.”

  “I’m playing no games, Jack Canagan,” she said, angrily slamming the dashboard with her palm to support her statement. “And I’ve chosen already. Even if they could smell me… Oh, that’s horrible! And I could smell them, I’m sure I wouldn’t have such a reaction to anybody else.”

  “I hope you won’t. We’ll talk about this later. Before we go to Red Cliffs, I’ll buy you a couple pairs of long johns—gray, mind you—and you won’t wear that dress again until I say so. Understand? Now get out of the car.”

  FRESH NIGHT air cleared my mind, and I was more or less composed when we entered the Blue Gallery on the main floor. Liv and Tristan had arrived earlier and joined us now. No doubt they’d already checked the room. My senses couldn’t detect any trouble either, but the three of us spontaneously formed a semi-circle around Astrid nonetheless, sheltering her from potential danger, just in case. For the Blakes that was a habit developed in a yearlong role as her bodyguards. For me it was the natural act of shielding her not only from danger, but also from the other males in the room.

  And with good reason. As soon as my girl stepped in, all heads turned toward her. I had to repeat to myself that no, there was no other werewolf in the Gallery, and no, the human males couldn’t smell her scent.

  They had eyes, though, and they used them well. I could hear their comments, too. Those standing with their girlfriends and wives didn’t say a word, yet their silence was equally eloquent. The single men grouped together expressed their delight and surprise in one-syllable onomatopoeic words. They weren’t vulgar or offensive, but the content was unmistakably sexual.

  “You’ve caused quite a stir, darling.” Liv arched her eyebrows and smiled approvingly. “Jack, don’t be jealous, you also look fabulous. Astrid, didn’t I tell you the dress would be a smash hit?”

  I sharply looked at Liv. “Don’t tell me you’re behind all this.”

  “Well, she was quite hesitant. ‘It’s too short, I never wear red, it’s too tight’,” Liv mocked Astrid’s voice. “Be honest, Jack, isn’t that the sexiest little dress you’ve ever seen?”

  “And now every single male in this room’s trying to strip it down with the sheer power of their will,” I said.

  “Hey, relax, Jack! This little knockout’s all yours, which makes you the most envied man in this room tonight, you lucky so
n of a gun,” Tristan said and then turned to Astrid. “Don’t listen to him, Princess. It’s a nice dress, you look fantastic. Now Jack, let me introduce you to Poppy Frey, our host.”

  We briefly talked to the artist, whom Astrid knew, and then moved around the room from one of her paintings to another. Other people approached us and talked, and I was indeed able to relax a bit: nobody had tried to steal my girl.

  Sidetracked by that mind-blowing piece of red fabric and her spectacular entry, it took me a while to notice that Astrid had hardly uttered a word since our last exchange in the car. I looked at her. She was pale and tense like a spring.

  I bent my head until my lips touched her ear. “Astrid, is everything okay?”

  “I want to go home,” she said quietly. I could hear a subtle tremor in her voice.

  “Let’s go, then,” I said and took her hand. “Are you feeling okay?”

  “No.”

  “What happened?” Liv was immediately beside us, and I could see Tristan approaching us from the opposite side of the room.

  “I’m going home, or wherever you’ve decided I should sleep tonight. Here is Poppy, let me say goodbye to her.”

  ASTRID WALKED beside me, still quiet. Outside in the parking lot, I stopped and turned her toward me. “Astrid, what’s going on?”

  “I feel terrible for no reason. I like this dress, and I like the fact that I had the guts to buy it. I never had anything like this before. You made a whole issue out of a little cocktail dress.”

  Little cocktail dress, my ass. “I like your dress, too. Now, baby, the problem is, I like it too much. I was pissed off with all those men trying to imagine what was under it,” I said.

  “And I can say the same about every single woman in the room. Well, except Liv,” Astrid snapped back. “They were more than politely curious about what was under your suit. They were taking your clothes off with their eyes. Like I wasn’t even there. My dress might be a bit hot, but what about you? They couldn’t take their eyes off you! I think you made yourself look way too sexy for a simple town exhibition!”

  For a long moment, I didn’t understand what on earth she was trying to tell me, or why I suddenly felt guilty. Another look at her face told me the reason. The same one that forced me to react with rage and jealousy. She didn’t see the lusty glances directed at her because she didn’t care. But she saw what she’d cared about: the women who dared to look at her mate, openly assessing him in front of her eyes.

  “Astrid, you are a little bit jealous, aren’t you?”

  “Of course I am, and not a little bit! And now I want to go home. If you think it’ll be hard to manage me in my dress, you are welcome to have a sleepover at the Blakes’. Just send Liv over to my house. And before we go, one more thing,” my girl said and propped herself on her toes. She locked her arms around my neck. “Stay still,” she ordered in her best no-nonsense manner.

  Her soft lips found mine. The tip of her tongue brushed along my lips and then sucked them gently, breaching gradually deeper and deeper. She tasted sweet and cool, like mint. We stood still in the middle of the parking lot, under the soft yellow light of the street lamp, kissing passionately. Her hands ran through my hair, pulling me closer; mine traveled down her back.

  She suddenly pulled away and locked eyes with me. “They are blue, aren’t they?” she said proudly. “And this kiss, this is just to give you a taste of your own medicine. Now let’s go home and watch a movie.”

  I didn’t understand the logic behind her reasoning, but sometimes it was hard to follow Astrid’s train of thought.

  I took off my jacket and offered it to her. “Put it over your knees. Your scent’s driving me crazy. You are too close and too naked-ish.”

  She obeyed but rolled her eyes. Like always when she did that, she suddenly looked like a teenager. “Don’t move too much, please.” I continued to annoy her. “When we get there, you go in first, take a shower and change into your oldest, biggest and baggiest shirt and pants. I’ll wait in the car.”

  Astrid giggled happily. “You just can’t resist me, can you?”

  I pulled up in front of her house and cut off the engine. “You’ll pay for this, Astrid Mohegan, and with hefty interest, I give you my word,” I said, laughing. “Now go, you have ten minutes. If your wolf doesn’t pop out tonight, tomorrow we are going to the cabin. It’s dangerous to keep you here any longer.”

  “You bet. I might quite spontaneously decide to stalk that blond bimbo who tried to strip you naked with her eyes, and rip her throat with my nice, sharp canine teeth,” she said and left the car.

  I watched her from behind. She was a hell of a girl. Long, beautiful legs, nice round bottom, straight back, long, silky honey-reddish hair, razor-sharp mind, nice round bottom—did I say that already—sophisticated, lusty, elegant, hearty, sexual and sensual.

  And all mine.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  THE APPETIZING smell of smoked meat and fresh salad vegetables indicated Jack was taking care of their late dinner.

  “What do you want to watch?” Astrid said as she emerged from the bathroom in her fluffy peach robe. Her hair was wrapped in a towel and her feet tucked into a pair of fuzzy pale-green Star Wars Yoda slippers.

  She leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed on her chest.

  Jack’s eyes took in the two egg-shaped heads with ears sticking out and tufts of fluffy white hair. “I’ve never known anybody who keeps her feet warm with the power of The Force.”

  He sighed. Master Yoda slippers and all, she was still as sexy as hell. “Sweetie, you do have your pajamas on under the bathrobe, don’t you now?”

  Astrid opened her bathrobe. Underneath it, she wore an oversized sleep shirt with a big picture of another movie character—a smiling Buzz Lightyear with his famous words printed above his head as a not-quite-accurate formula:

  2 ∞ & >!

  Jack gave her a crooked smile. “The ‘beyond’ symbol should be the other way around.”

  “I know, but that’s what makes my shirt special. It’s a sort of limited edition. A batch or two hit the stores before it was noticed. They recalled it quickly, but I’d already bought one,” Astrid explained as she stepped into the kitchen and hugged Jack from behind. He’d changed into a simple red T-shirt and jeans, but to her he looked equally as stunning as in his smart black suit a few minutes ago.

  “Can I help?” she asked.

  Jack turned to her and gently pushed her away. “That’s not helping me. What’s gotten into you tonight, woman?” He smiled and kissed her nose. “That’s all you’re going to get. No more kissing.”

  “What are you making?” Astrid asked and peeked behind Jack’s back.

  “Montreal steak sandwich and salad. Astrid, you don’t have food allergies, right?”

  “No.”

  “Good. You and Master Yoda go pick a movie, and I’ll take a shower before we start. Get out of my kitchen,” he laughed and pushed her out.

  A SELECTION of Blu-rays lay on the table, with Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai and Rashomon on top.

  “Interesting choice,” Jack said, “but I’m not surprised. I didn’t expect you to pick a romantic comedy.”

  “Oh, but I love them. Four Weddings and a Funeral, Bridget Jones and such, for example. You know that I have a big crush on Hugh Grant.”

  “Honey, you had a crush. You’re reformed,” Jack explained patiently. “Not that I’m jealous of your former virtual boyfriends, but I suggest you do not push that button. So, unless you had a crush on Toshiro Mifune, Seven Samurai it is. Out of curiosity, what else did you pull out?”

  Jack browsed through the pile of Blu-ray cases sitting on the table. “Amadeus, of course; Immortal Beloved with Gary Oldman, Dracula with Gary Oldman…”

  “Another of my crushes. Former.”

  “You will teach me how to roll my eyes. The Last of the Mohicans, and the timeless Day-Lewis.”

  Astrid fluttered her eyelashes and let out a long, sensual sigh
.

  Jack laughed. “Nice try, but you’re not going to make me jealous.” He took another movie from the stack. “What else do we have here? House of Flying Daggers. I bet you find Takeshi Kaneshiro handsome.”

  “I didn’t say anything, but I couldn’t agree more.”

  “He might even be good looking, but he’s young, and you like them older, so I’m not worried.”

  “He’s not that young.”

  “He definitely is. Am I going to have to hear about your cinema lovers all night?”

  “Shall we start, then? Seven Samurai?” she asked.

  “Okay, but let me tell you first about my favorite movies and stars.”

  Astrid shut her eyes, covered her ears and stuck out her tongue at Jack.

  “HERE’S YOUR sandwich and salad,” Jack said a little bit later, after he put Seven Samurai into the player. He placed a tray with a plate, bowl and glass of water onto Astrid’s lap.

  The sandwich was delicious. The smoked meat was tender and salty, bread fresh and crispy, tomato juicy… a little bit of heaven on a plate. Half-done with the sandwich, she turned her attention to the salad.

  “Garlic!!! You’ve put raw garlic into the dressing!” she exclaimed but continued to eat.

  “Drastic times require drastic measures,” Jack said. “That’s for my personal protection. If you eat garlic, you’ll have stinky breath and it’ll stop you thinking about kissing me. I’ll be safe.”

  Astrid laughed. “That was low, Jack Cahagan. Don’t tell me I’m a serious threat to your virtue,” she said and picked up another forkful.

  “After my recent experience with your dress and your attack in the parking lot, I thought I’d better come up with some protection. I still see the swirls of red in front of my eyes.”

  “Aren’t you eating the salad, too?”

  “Ha, I’m smarter than that! If I ate it, I’d also smell it, and what’s the point then? This way I’m sure you won’t come close to me,” Jack said and concentrated on his plate with the sandwich. He’d almost finished it before he went to the kitchen and came back with a bowl of salad for himself. “Promise to be a good girl?