A Love for Lera
Copyright © 2014 Aliyah Burke
Cover illustration copyright © MMJ Designs
Editor: Jessica Bimberg
ISBN:
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the Web-without permission in writing from the publisher or author. The unauthorized replication or allocation of any copyrighted work is illegal. File sharing is an international crime, prosecuted by the United States Department of Justice and the United States Border Patrol, Division of Cyber Crimes, in partnership with Interpol. Copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is punishable by up to five years in federal prison, a fine of $250,000 per reported instance, and seizure of computers.
This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.
Published by: Sensual Romance Publishing
Trademarks
The author acknowledges both the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction
If You Dare
By
Aliyah Burke
Dedication
To all my readers, I thank you for your amazing and unending support. I hope you enjoy Lera’s story as much as I did writing it. To my editor, Jess, thank you for helping to make my story shine. Thank you as well to my cover artist for making another stunning cover. To my husband, thank you for everything you do. To my parents, the best I could have ever dreamed of having, thank you. And, as always, last but never least, to the men and women who sacrifice so much to protect this country. God Bless You!!
Table of Contents
Phrase Glossary
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
Preview story
About the Author
Other Titles by Aliyah Burke
Phrase Glossary
Little one… Beag amháin
Good bye…Slán leat
My dear…Mo chara
My heart…Mo chroí
My love…Mo ghrá
My soul…Mo anam
Breath of my soul…Anáil de mo anam
Chapter One
Her teeth hurt courtesy of the shaking and noise from the boisterous crowd. Lera Sidorov fought back the urge to curl her lip at the stench of unwashed bodies and sweat. Running her tongue over her teeth, she ignored all the stares and headed for the bar. Okay, definitely not my kind of place. She could feel people undressing her with their eyes. No one touched her as she moved through the crowd; she avoided all contact without appearing to do so. She wasn’t scared. No, this place couldn’t make her scared; leery, yes. Scared, not a chance. What she was, however, was nearing the end of her patience.
Stopping before the bar, she met the gaze of the scruffy bartender. He was large, very large. And not in a fat, I-could-outrun-him-in-stilettos fat but large as in I would need an elephant gun to bring him down or at least slow him down. The black bandana on his head was adorned with a skull and crossbones. The goatee and scar on his face didn’t make her feel any better.
Fucking Winthrop, Washington. Really? Who would have thunk I would have my ass in a bar here, one that is mostly filled with bikers? Or a place like this anywhere, for that matter. I like clean. That wasn’t all she liked. No time to dwell on that right now, though.
His cold blue eyes ran lewdly over her body before he leaned on the counter and bent toward her. “A little out of place, aren’t you, darlin’? We don’t serve milk or those cute little fruity drinks with purdy straws.” His voice was about as soothing as broken glass.
Toothpaste and breath mints must not be available either. “I’m looking for someone.”
Skinny lips peeled back to reveal crooked, yellowed teeth. “I’m all the man you’ll ever need.”
“Is that so?” she asked without any emotion.
Her dry tone wasn’t missed, and he shot a stream of tobacco juice to the sawdust-covered floor. “Bitches with smart mouths don’t always leave as purdy as they walked in.” His chin jerked toward the door she’d walked through moments before. “Maybe you should leave now while you can.”
She didn’t even hesitate. “I’m looking for Butch Caine.”
The man looked at her, grabbed an unmarked bottle of amber liquid, and poured her a shot. “Drink this and maybe I’ll tell you.”
She knew he expected her to be unable to drink it. “If I drink it, I ain’t paying for it.”
“Deal.” He nudged it toward her with one meaty, dirty finger.
Ignoring his obvious need for nail clipping, Lera grabbed the shot and tossed it back without hesitation. The sharp yet familiar taste of the oaky bourbon nearly burned her throat, making her grateful for learning a long time ago how to open her throat and take a shot. She never blinked. Lera flipped over the glass and slammed it on the bar, the sound grabbing attention of others. Then, she quirked one brow, silently asking ‘Is that all you’ve got?’
Resting one foot on the rail around the bottom of the bar, she said, “I’m surprised you serve Fighting Cock in here. Haven’t had that in a while. Now, I believe you were about to tell me where I can find Butch Caine.”
“I’ll be Butch for you, honey,” a man drawled beside her.
Lera turned her head slowly and stared at him. I’ll call you Stinky. One thing about this place, they sure do grow them big. “I don’t need a man pretending to be Butch. I’m looking for the real thing.”
Stinky was joined by newly appointed Ugly and Nasty. Lera ignored the fear slithering up her spine at the men being so close and purposefully kept her expression bored.
“I think I’ll just keep you. Share you with my boys here,” Stinky informed her, grabbing his crotch.
This is going to get ugly. Lera opened her mouth to refute his claim when a deep masculine voice flowed to her ears.
“Don’t touch her.”
A simple statement. Yet it was one laced with death and the promise of it being carried out.
Oh shit! Please no. Anyone but him.
She watched the men back up, fear evident on their faces. The sounds in the bar seemed to fade. Taking a deep breath, Lera inhaled the scent of the wild outdoors. And just like that she knew her prayer had gone unanswered. Only one man she knew smelled like that. With a resigned sigh, she turned her head to the right and watched as the dark shadows materialized into a man. At least, to her that’s how it always seemed. Not there one second and the next appearing from where before only air had existed.
Inside, she trembled. Outside, she was unflappable. Her left hand fisted briefly before she forced it to relax. Lera watched the tall, powerful man approach. Clad completely in black there was no emotion on his face. Staring at
her from behind sinfully thick curled lashes were intense gray eyes. Not silver. Gray. Hard, unforgiving dark gray. For a brief second, she believed she saw flickers of anger in them, but if there had been, they vanished in less than a second.
Only one man had the power to make her feel things on a sexual level. And this was him. Shoving her wishy-washy feelings back under lock and key, she met his gaze with an expressionless face.
Lera dipped her head slightly in greeting and said, “Kori.”
Cormac “Kori” MacLochlainne. A man she’d known for over half of her life. A wolf shifter. He knew her father, Dane Sidorov. Well, adopted father technically but to her, Dane was her only one. Dane had saved her when she was ten and raised her as his own. Lera didn’t like most people touching her outside of her immediate family but this man, Kori, made her reconsider that decision.
“Lera.” He continued to move closer and stopped just shy of touching her. His eyes moved over her from the boots on her feet up to the top of her head before returning to meet her gaze. Almost in a possessive way. “We’re leaving.”
Well, good to see you, too; thanks for coming in to order me around. I don’t think so, buddy. “Bye.”
He barely blinked. “Now.”
“Last time I checked, you weren’t my father.” She had no intention of giving up her quest.
“I’m not.” He gave her a bland stare. “I won’t allow you to remain here.”
Her ire rose with that comment. “Won’t allow? I’m not—”
“Valera, now.”
There was something in his tone that told her it wasn’t in her best interest to disobey him. And he used her complete first name as opposed to her nickname. Without a word, she avoided contact with him, walked through the observing crowd, and out the door. Behind her, his presence loomed around her, and she noticed that people gave her a wide berth. How the hell didn’t I know he was here? Lera knew the answer despite having asked the question. He had the ability to shield himself from detection if he wished it. Not that I have any powers to detect him anyway.
“Get in.”
Lera jerked her gaze to where he stood beside a large black vehicle. Why am I not surprised to see him with a Humvee? And not a pussy civilian Hummer either; this one screams military issue, a true Humvee. It was meant to go off-road and slog though terrible conditions, not stroke an ego of someone who lived in a city and was having issues with their masculinity.
She shook her head. “I have a ride.”
The look in his eyes said more than he did. And Lera knew how and when to pick her battles. He wanted to talk. So they would then they could go their separate ways. She swung her leg over her silver and gray bike and started the powerful engine before sliding mirrored glasses on her face despite the lack of light. Like a dutiful child, she followed the black vehicle to a hotel, ignoring the rebellion welling up within her. Lera parked next to him but backed into the spot. Her belly knotted briefly before she could control it.
Please, Kori wouldn’t have brought you here if there was danger around. The man walked by and started up a set of outside stairs without a single glance back. Just assumes I’ll follow. And she did. Followed his fine ass and the scent of the wilderness up to a corner room and inside the sparely furnished domicile. Her gaze skimmed it; she was not at all surprised to see a lack of items. He’d always struck her as a man who didn’t need material substance.
“What are you doing here, Lera?”
Kori removed his black leather trench coat and tossed it on the bed. He leaned against the dresser and folded his arms over his chest, reminding her just how strong they were. The sleeves of his black shirt strained with the seemingly impossible task of containing his biceps.
“Did my dad send you?” Just staring at him made a tingling begin in the pit of her belly.
He arched an eyebrow. “Dane doesn’t know you’re here?”
Shit. Well, that answers that. “I’m not a baby, Kori. I don’t have to tell him where I go all the time.”
He stared unflinchingly at her. “Maybe he should know if you do stupid things like you did tonight.”
For the first time in her life, she heard sentiment creep into his tone. Lera shook her head. It had to be my imagination. Cormac MacLochlainne didn’t get that way. Showing emotion was not a phrase she equated with Kori. “You do realize you could have berated me there and saved me a return trip. Are you done? I have to get going.”
“I am not berating you, Lera. However, you’re not going back there.”
It amazed her how there was such finality in his tone when it didn’t seem anything in it had changed.
“Pretty sure we just went over who my daddy is. And it wasn’t you. You have no say over where I go or not.”
“Is that a challenge, Lera?” He pushed away from the worn-down dresser and prowled toward her.
Lera lifted her chin. “Fact.” She refused to cower despite her instinctive need to avoid any contact.
Kori stopped a miniscule distance away and stared down at her. He was four inches over six feet, and with her being five-seven, he had this way of seriously intimidating her. Then, he circled her like a hungry wolf and moved back to the dresser.
“Tell me what you were doing there and where you learned to drink a shot like that.”
His tone just oozed confidence that she would do as he ordered. And she didn’t like that; he had no right to issue commands. Not to her. But, she also knew Kori and normal thought process didn’t necessarily apply with him.
“I’m looking for my friend, Rissa. And my drinking ability is none of your business.” Damn if I couldn’t use another though.
A glint in his eyes told her he believed it was. “Rissa?” He gave a small shake of his head. “I don’t know her. New friend?”
She narrowed her eyes slightly. “I think you know too much about me already. Rissa is a friend from school. One of the only real ones I had there.” Lera tugged on the cuff of a glove. “She went missing one night after we’d gone out on some dates.”
A low growl filled the room, and she snapped her gaze to him. His stare was deadpan, but he was watching her in an almost possessive way. What the hell? He never growls. Something was going on with him. Kori seemed almost wired. He was not acting normal; the calm way she was used to seeing surround him had vanished. He’s probably pissed he feels he has to save me.
“Anyway, Rissa isn’t from a prominent family or anything like that so the cops weren’t overly interested. I was. So I started looking on my own. It’s been a month.” Lera ran a hand over her face. “I tracked my last lead here, Butch Caine.” She walked over to him and said, “I can’t let this go, Kori. I won’t. I have to find her; she’s my best friend.”
His gaze dropped, and she lowered hers and jumped back. She had been touching him, her hand resting upon his arm. Quickly backing up, she fussed with her gloves, unwilling to make eye contact.
“Sorry.” Her heart had sped up, and she felt a bit lightheaded.
It was a well-known fact he didn’t like to be touched either. The door at her back stopped her. Kori’s gaze moved from the arm she’d touched back to her. He stepped toward her, an easy ripple of movement. Predatory motion. She saw it in his eyes. He was going to take her home.
No! Her mind screamed. She bravely glided toward him. “I’m not going home, Kori. And I am going back to that bar to find Butch Caine.”
He stopped, arms still crossed. “Those men would have torn you apart,” he said with a snarl.
“I’m not helpless, you know. Just because I don’t have abilities like you or Daddy, doesn’t mean I can’t protect myself.” She huffed and crossed her own arms, more than willing to do battle.
Kori’s look told her exactly what he thought about that. “There are things out there, Lera, much worse than those men.”
“Stop trying to scare me, Kori. I’m well aware of things that go bump in the night. I don’t care.”
“You should,” he whispered in her ea
r.
Lera refused to flinch when he materialized behind her. The speed at which he moved always impressed her. But then so did the man. He’d always fascinated her. More than she ever admitted. Or wanted to.
“Probably,” she said in her controlled tone. “But I don’t.”
“You’re not going to give this up.” His tone was resigned.
“No. I have to find her. One way or another,” Lera stated, proud her voice didn’t crack.
“Look at me.”
A command.
An order.
Delivered in a darkly seductive timbre.
Lera spun on her boot heel and found him still so close. She almost held her breath, thinking if her chest moved they would be touching. There was an odd look in his eyes, and she fought the urge to take a step back. Instead, she kept her mask of composure firmly in place.
“What?” she said.
“Listen to me before you say yes, beag amháin.”
He’s going to help me. She waited, her withering hope flaring, rejuvenated within her even as she tried unsuccessfully to translate what he’d called her.
“I will help you find your friend. But there are ground rules. When I give you an order, you’ll follow it.”
“So long as it’s reasonable.”
“I’m not done,” he bit off.
“Sorry.” Lera frowned over the intensity of his tone. It was extremely controlled.
“I give an order, and you follow it. I also need to know you can handle me touching you. At a lot of these places, they will need to know you are not available. Could you handle that?” His eyes gleamed in the light. “Can you handle everyone knowing that,” his tone dropped deeper and huskier than she could ever recall it being, “you belong to me?”
He made it sound so absolute, so permanent. Those knots were back in her belly and a whole slew of other places. Feelings she wasn’t used to experiencing raised their head. She ignored them and focused on the image of Rissa’s gentle brown face with her big sepia eyes.
“Can you handle me walking up behind you and grabbing your ass, or jerking you into my arms and kissing you?” Into his voice leeched some of his toe-curling Irish accent, and his gray eyes, burning with feral fire, held her prisoner. “Because if you can’t, beag amháin, it ends now, and you are on the first flight back to South Africa. And I will make sure Dane knows what you’ve been up to and why I’m sending you home.”
A Love For Lera (Haikon) Page 1