Falling for the Billionaire Wolf and His Baby (Blood Moon Brotherhood)

by Summers, Sasha

  “They don’t need protection,” he argued. “It’s a precaution.”

  “A precaution?” Her voice rose. “If that’s supposed to comfort me, it doesn’t. I’m not leaving my family.”

  “I’ll move them, Jessa. Someplace they’ll have around the clock security, drivers, and complete safety.”

  He meant it, she could tell. But to go to such extremes. “Why?” she pushed.

  “Because I will do whatever it takes to keep you here, for Oscar. Your brothers aren’t at risk. Oscar is.” He glanced at the sleeping baby.

  She shook her head. “You expect me to go without asking questions?”

  “That’s exactly what I expect, Jessa.” His jaw was clenched, his desperation real.

  “This isn’t about my employment anymore. I need my brothers more than I need a job.” She swallowed. “They are all I have in the world. Nothing can happen to them—”

  “Nothing will.” His tone was hard. “Nothing. You said you trust me.” But then his gaze lowered, staring at her mouth. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, his lips parted. “Trust me. Please.” The way he was looking at her made it impossible to argue. She did trust him, even now, when there were things she didn’t know. He said her brothers weren’t a target, but Oscar was. If they were trying to get to Finn or Oscar, surely those close to Finn were at risk. Not the nanny’s family.

  He waited, prepared to argue with her. But that wasn’t what made her pause. It was Oscar, the soft gurgle he made in his sleep. Whatever want Finn stirred within her, she loved this baby. And, if her brothers were protected, how could she turn her back on Oscar? The answer was easy. She couldn’t.

  Chapter Five

  Finn bit back a groan. He couldn’t resist sliding his hand beneath her hair to cup her head, to stroke the soft skin along the back of her neck.

  He’d never been as scared as he was today. Never been so ready to kill. Her voice on the phone had the wolf raring to hunt. But he needed to get to her, to Oscar, first. Even the wolf understood that. Seeing the car, hearing Brown’s reassurances, hadn’t eased him. Only pulling her close, capturing Oscar’s foot in his hand, had chased his panic away. And once she’d been pressed against him, he’d been unable to let go.

  Her breasts crushed against his chest, her fingers gripped his shirt front, the curve of her hip fit in his hand. All of him, man and wolf, wanted this woman. It was powerful—too powerful. The thick silver chain around his neck felt hot against his chest, reminding him to keep his head. The need to hold her, to touch her, to taste her was overwhelming. Her full lips parted. He could lean in, claim her mouth.

  His wolf demanded it. As far as the wolf was concerned, she was his.

  But he fought his wolf, the silver medallion singeing his skin. Losing control with Jessa would be bad.

  The car came to a stop, jarring them both.

  She was out of the car before he could say a word, unclicking Oscar’s car seat and hurrying toward the elevator. He followed, the thrum of possessiveness still coursing through his veins. The elevator ride was silent, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

  What made it worse was knowing she wanted him. He could see the thrum of her pulse in her throat. Smell her arousal in her scent. His hands fisted as he failed to shut her out. Her green eyes, when she dared look at him, begged for his touch.

  Brown stood between them, looking stoically ahead.

  While he stared at her, she focused solely on Oscar.

  Oscar.

  The reason Jessa was here.

  He drew in a deep breath, reminding himself of the truth. She was not his. He had no right to her. This was her job. He would not give in to this attraction—it would only do harm.

  By the time they exited the elevator, he’d regained some sliver of self-control. “Brown,” he said, leading the man to his office.

  “Mr. Dean.” Jessa’s voice stopped him.

  He stared at her, wanting to buy as much time as possible. He was in control, for now, but he didn’t know what to do, not yet. When it came to Jessa Talbot, he and his wolf did not see eye-to-eye. But she had a right to have her questions answered. Some of her questions. “I’ll be there in a minute,” he told Brown, following Jessa and Oscar into her room.

  She was agitated, that much was clear, but he didn’t know what to do about it. She said she trusted him. Now he needed her to do what he said. Watching her lift Oscar, press a kiss to his head, and place him gently in the crib, warmed his heart. She lingered, running a fingertip along Oscar’s cheek, before she turned those bright green eyes on him.

  “My brothers and sister are all I have in the world, Mr. Dean,” she said. “If I’m to stay with you and Oscar, I need your word they will be safe.”

  If I’m to stay… He swallowed, leaning against the doorframe. If she left… The wolf reared up in protest. Could he let her leave? Maybe he and the wolf did have something in common. He tried not to think about that too much.

  He nodded. “They have my protection.”

  “From?” she asked.

  He ran a hand across his face, choosing his words carefully. “The man in the park.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself, prompting him to reach for her. His hands covered hers, his thumbs stroking her satin skin. He didn’t like the fear in her eyes, or the way she wavered on her feet.

  “Why is this happening?” she asked.

  He released her, pacing the length of her room. He was still too caught up in these new feelings to respond right away. His wolf wanted her to know…everything. Hell, his wolf wanted her as his mate. He froze, letting that realization wash over him.

  He looked at her, at how frightened she was. This was what he’d done to her. By bringing her into his world, he’d introduced her to fear. And as much as he craved her, he knew it was wrong—for Jessa. She was human, clueless to the bullshit that was his world. Telling her would change that, erase it forever. He searched her face. Maybe he should let her go.

  “I need five minutes,” he said.

  She nodded.

  He had Brown dispatch bodyguards to the Talbot house, then he called Harry to explain the situation. Rather, that the paparazzi were getting a little determined and he thought some extra security was necessary. Harry sounded excited. Having a housekeeper, cook, and driver would make things easier, even if they would each have their own bodyguard for the time being.

  But news that Greg was found, his neck broken, in a dumpster a few miles from the park had him raging. Cyrus had been with Jessa, so he hadn’t been the one to kill the guard—meaning Cyrus hadn’t been alone.

  After splashing some cold water on his face, he returned to Jessa.

  She was sitting in her rocking chair, eyes closed. If she didn’t have a death grip on the chair handles, he might think she was sleeping.

  He sat on the footstool and looked at her. “Once you know this, it will change everything.”

  She opened her eyes. “Everything’s already changed, hasn’t it?”

  “Guess so.” He shook his head.

  She frowned. “Tell me why this is happening.”

  He rested his elbows on his knees. “When I graduated from college, I took some time to find myself. I drank and partied and made bad choices. But one good thing I did was help my brother on a dig in Montana. He was an archeology buff. Loved it.” He stood, pacing in front of the windows. “I found a bone, not all that surprising on a dig but exciting nonetheless. It was old, very old. My brother was excited because he couldn’t tell what it was—whether it was human or something else. He wanted it to be something else, something that would get him in a textbook or journal.” He ran a hand over the back of his neck. “A dust storm blew in and we ran for cover, but the terrain was uneven and none of us could see. I fell on the bone.” He lifted his shirt, showing her the puncture scar along his side.

  She frowned.

  “When I woke up, I was sick. My brother and the rest of the team were worried. But we were high up, th
e storm was going on, and no help was coming anytime soon. I remember passing out—” He broke off. “And I remember waking up…”

  She stood. “What happened Finn?”

  He looked at her. “My brother and his fiancée were dead. Mauled by an animal. A wolf. My friends had been attacked, too, though they were alive.”

  She frowned. “I’m so sorry, Finn. That’s horrible. I had no idea.”

  “No one did. We couldn’t tell the truth. People would lock us up and throw away the fucking key. A wolf attack? There had never, ever, been an attack like this.” He agreed. “That bone was infected—made me infected. And, so far, there’s no cure.”

  “Infected with what?” Her brow dipped. “But surely—”

  “No cure. I’ve learned to control it, for the most part.” He pulled the medallion from his shirt, holding it tight. “But it’s there, a part of me, something I have to fight against every day.”

  “What do you mean, control it?” she asked, her expression wary as she eyed the medallion.

  “The world thinks my brother and his fiancée died in a car accident. But I did it.” He watched her. “I was the wolf that attacked, Jessa. Me.” He waited, watching the disbelief on her face. “I was the one that killed my brother and his fiancée. That infected the only friends I’ve ever had. Me.” He waited.

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “You do,” he argued. “But you don’t want to.”

  “You’re serious? You mean… Like werewolves?” Her voice was high-pitched, unsteady. “Finn, you can’t believe this… Werewolves don’t exist. It’s impossible.”

  “I wish you were right.” He glanced at her. “He’s one, too.”

  Her eyes widened. “The man in the park?”

  He nodded.

  She sat down, then, staring blindly around the room.

  “You knew something was wrong. You felt it, didn’t you?” he asked.

  She nodded. “But this?”

  “Cyrus wants to track down me and those I turned. To kill us, keep us caged, I’m not sure. But the birth of my son seems to have Cyrus and his pack on alert.”

  Her green eyes fixed on him, but she stayed silent.

  “This is all about control. They, the Others, want ultimate control.” He paused. “Jessa?”

  “What happened to Oscar’s mother?”

  “She died in a car accident,” he said.

  “Did she?” she asked. “Like your brother and his fiancée?” It was a whisper but her point was made.

  He opened his mouth, then closed it. “Hollis isn’t sure what happened to her. She was found in a wrecked car.” He waited, hoping she wouldn’t ask about Greg. It was too much.

  “What you’re telling me—this is real?”

  He reached for her hands. But she recoiled, tucking her hands under her thighs and leaning back into the cushion. He stiffened, nodding once. “It is.”

  She nodded. “This is a lot to take in, Mr. Dean.”

  The “Mr. Dean” was a kick to the gut. “And harder to believe?”

  She didn’t say anything—she didn’t have to. The confusion on her face, processing everything he said, was plain to see.

  “Cyrus wants Oscar?” She paused. He felt her panic, her fear. “Will Oscar change?”

  “We don’t know. None of us were born this way,” he admitted.

  “How will you know?” she asked.

  “The full moon is next week. Anything is possible.”

  “So, that’s real? Next week?” She brushed past him to the crib, peering down at Oscar. She stared at his son with such love it tore at his heart. “Oh, little one.”

  “I know.” The words stuck in his throat. “Brown’s concerned that Cyrus will think you are my mate. You told him you were waiting on Oscar’s father?”

  “I wanted him to leave,” she said, her tone defensive. “If anything, he’ll think I was with Brown—considering how hard I was holding on to him.”

  “Your scent,” he started, breaking off. He had to tell her, if only to keep her close. “Your scent is mingled with mine. And Oscar’s.”

  Her features tightened. “He smelled me,” she whispered. “I thought I’d imagined it.”

  Then he knows you’re mine.

  He shook his head and stood, unable to take the distance between them any longer. “The wolf’s sense of smell is important. They can scent pack relations—enemies, allies, and mates.” He moved to Oscar’s crib, content to be close to them both. “You are my pack. He’ll know that now.”

  “What if I don’t want to be part of your pack?” she asked.

  Her words cut through him. “It doesn’t matter what you want.” His gaze held hers. “It has nothing to do with want. It’s a fact.”

  “So you’re saying I don’t have a choice?” she asked, her eyes wide with horror.

  “I won’t make you stay, Jessa,” he admitted, even if the wolf howled in protest. “But I’m asking you to. Oscar needs you. And so do I.”

  She tore her gaze from his. “I’d like to lie down while Oscar’s still asleep.”

  “Just a minute. Come with me, I’ve something to show you,” he said, going through the bathroom that adjoined Jessa and Oscar’s rooms. He waited, pleased that she eventually followed him. “There should be no reason to use this, but it’s here.” He pushed open Oscar’s closet, sliding his finger along the release of the hidden door inside.

  The wall slid back, revealing a small safe room.

  “Are you kidding me?” Jessa’s voice wavered.

  “You saw how the release works?” he asked. “The emergency release is here. There’s a keypad in my office—it’s the only other way to open the door. Other than from the inside, of course.”

  She stared inside.

  “Jessa?” he repeated. “Did you see how the release works?”

  She nodded.

  “Hit this button and the door slams and locks,” he said, pointing to a red button just inside the door. “It can only be opened from the inside, here,” he pointed at the keypad. “The code is here.” He showed her, watching her eyes get wider and wider. “Do you have any questions?”

  She shook her head, backing out. She stared around Oscar’s nursery almost blindly before heading through the bathroom to her room.

  He followed, regretting everything. He shouldn’t have told her. He should have made something up. But it was too late now. “Jessa…” How could he make her understand?

  “This is a lot to take in.” She stared past him.

  That’s the understatement of the year. “Are you okay?”

  “I honestly don’t know.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how to believe anything you’re telling me.”

  “I know—”

  “I don’t think you do,” her voice wavered. “This is normal for you. It’s the furthest thing from normal for me.”

  Everything she said was right. He hated it—hated feeling helpless. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Please. Give me some time to myself.” She wouldn’t look at him.

  He left, closing her door behind him. He lingered, pacing, the need to watch over them pressing in on him. And when he heard Jessa’s soft crying, the wolf was ready for a fight.

  …

  “A few more minutes,” Jessa said, bouncing Oscar in the sling she wore, walking the length of the apartment again. The order she’d placed yesterday, before her disastrous walk, hadn’t been delivered on time. Now her world was upside down and her nerves were shot. And while Oscar was a sweet-tempered baby, he couldn’t go without formula. It was her fault—she’d been shaking so badly, so distracted, that she’d knocked the remaining formula onto the floor before she could make Oscar’s bottle. Now Thomas wasn’t responding to her texts or calls, so she’d used Klemps’s emergency delivery hotline. She’d laughed at its existence once—now she just hoped the formula would arrive before Oscar’s patience ran out.

  She had to finish packing if they
were going to leave in the morning. And she had to decide if she was going with them. Or if she’d be saying good-bye to Oscar and Finn. She’d talked to Harry and her brothers, who were excited over their fancy living arrangements. They thought it was to avoid paparazzi—if only that were true. The truth? Her eyes burned from a sleepless night and too many tears.

  The doorman buzzed, “You have a delivery from Klemps’, Miss Talbot.”

  “Thank you,” she said, smiling at Oscar in the fabric sling she was wearing. “See, I wouldn’t let you go hungry little man.”

  Oscar regarded her with his wide, light eyes.

  “You’re welcome,” she murmured. It would be easier to choose if she didn’t love Oscar. But she did, more than she’d ever imagined possible.

  He gurgled, making her smile

  She opened the door to find Thomas carrying a box of supplies. “Hi, stranger,” she said.

  “Hi Jessa.” He coughed.

  “You sick?” she asked, shifting Oscar’s sling to her other side.

  “I’m not sure,” he answered, following her into the hall. “Something’s going on.”

  Something was going on. Thomas looked terrible. His complexion was waxy and pale—almost grey. A light sheen of perspiration across his brow and upper lip, and his eyes… It was as if the color had faded out of them. He noticed her examination and scowled, stalking into the kitchen—moving so swiftly, Jessa jumped.

  That was when she noticed Oscar. He’d gone silent and motionless, burrowing against her.

  The stroke of warning along her spine was quick, but unmistakable. Even though she knew Thomas was no threat, that there was no reason to be so damn jumpy, she tightened the sling holding Oscar—freeing her hands but anchoring him against her.

  “Jessa,” Thomas called from the kitchen.

  She followed, taking a deep breath. “Adjusting Oscar,” she explained. “He’s hungry.”

  “He’s growing.” Thomas said, stepping closer. “Looks like you’re doing a great job with him.”